


Snapshots

by roseforthethorns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Add tags as I go, Anal Sex, Big bloody ship, Cuddling, D/s play, Drinking, Fingering, Flirting, Fluff, I love them too much, Innuendo, James being a tease, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Oral Sex, PTSD, Pillow Talk, Q and Bond are stubborn asses., Rimming, Skyfall, Swearing, episodic story, injuries, nightmares that include character death but the character isn't actually really dead, relationships, running from danger, suggestions of bondage, suggestions of gay sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 30,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond and Q- perfect for each other even if they don't always know it.</p><p>This will be a series of episodes from their life. I'm not sure when this falls in the canon verse. I think it probably begins sometime after Skyfall, but it will jump around. The stories are in no particular order. This is my first work for the 00Q fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first night together, Bond sleeps over and wakes first. His thoughts as the sun rises on a London where he has, in fact, just slept with his Quartermaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this story to fanspiration. He inspired me to finally begin to write 00Q and not just fantasize about them endlessly.
> 
> I don't own these characters or anything in the James Bond franchise. I'm just playing with them.

It doesn’t look like it would, but Q’s flat gets far more sunlight in the morning than James is used to.

The main windows in the bedroom face east, welcoming the warm rays that peep around the buildings of Central London. James is already awake, but he hasn’t risen or showered or left the room. No, to his eternal surprise (and he will flatly deny it if asked), he is watching Q sleep.

The Quartermaster is certainly young; Bond had that pegged from their first meeting in the National Gallery (bloody big ship indeed- Eve is going to have a bloody field day when she figures it out). Q is probably a little less than half Bond’s age, but the difference didn’t seem to even phase the young genius the night before. He had been more than eager, and if Bond is willing to admit it, so had he.

It’s not just Q’s youth that attracts Bond. He’s drawn to the man’s intellect like a moth to a flame. Q can spout technical jargon faster than Bond can usually keep up, but that talented mouth conveys a soft-spoken, shrewd mind that is every bit as dangerous as the 00 agent currently sharing a bed with him. Bond slowly runs his trigger finger down Q’s bare arm, tracing the pattern of sunlight on his pale skin. It’s soft and pliant to the touch, summoning memories of those clever arms above Q’s head, wrists bound to the headboard while James touched him everywhere…

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Q’s unruly mop of black hair still looks thoroughly shagged from James pulling on it the night before. It falls into the young man’s sleeping face without Q’s long fingers to keep it in place or brush it away. He looks… innocent, James decides. Certainly more innocent than he knows the man actually is. Q’s mouth is slightly open and, oh James will remember this and tease the young man mercilessly later, Q is drooling on the pillow.

The secret agent chuckles to himself and turns his gaze to the window before a very loud yowl from the foot of the bed startles him. Q’s largest cat, Macavity, is sitting there and crying for food.

Well. This is new.

Before James can move or dislodge the yowling cat, Q stirs and sits up with a groan. “Macavity, it’s too bloody early,” the younger man grumbles. James watches him fumble for his glasses and start to rise.

“Q.”

Q stops and turns around slowly. Too many things flicker across his unguarded, sleepy face for James to process. Finally Q seems to settle on something resembling amusement and incredulity. “I didn’t think to see you this morning. You really did stay...” He shakes his head when James opens his mouth to speak. “I have to feed Macavity and Rumpleteazer. The bathroom is through that door. I’m going to put the kettle on. I can’t have this conversation before my second cup of Earl Grey.”

James sits there staring after Q, wondering exactly how to explain that he wants last night to happen far more frequently than is advisable for either one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea that Q named his cats based on names from "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" by T. S. Eliot.
> 
> Comments and reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Please feel free to explore my other works (mostly Sherlock fandom).


	2. Musings- Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their initial meeting, Q mulls everything over.
> 
> The chapter is interspersed with dialogue from the now famous "big bloody ship" scene. I liked writing this so much that I will do a Part II eventually for Bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized, as I was typing this up at quarter to midnight on a Sunday, how much I ship them and just how much I love them both.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next update will be, so I decided to give you two chapters back to back. With any luck, you'll get something by April 24th. It depends on how much time I have this week.

_“Always makes me feel a little melancholy.”_

Tanner escorts Q back to the temporary MI6 base after seeing Bond to a car that will (hopefully) safely convey him to Heathrow. The Quartermaster focuses on his mobile for the whole ride, scrolling through e-mail, firing off responses while mulling over the informative, albeit brief, first encounter…

_“I’m your new Quartermaster.”_

_“You_ must _be joking.”_

Bond had looked just this side of freshly stomped shit. His eyes were weary, his stubble ragged, and he’d seemed almost haunted. A shell. No: _haggard_. That was the word Q was looking for. It really shouldn’t be surprising considering the injury, the fall, and the months out of the field, but for an agent with a reputation as infamous as James Bond, Q had somehow expected… more. Yet, despite all appearances, Bond was still as belligerent, witty, and flirtatious as records suggested. Q had managed to hold his own quite well…

_“Age is no guarantee of efficiency-“_

_“-And youth is no guarantee of innovation.”_

… but now Q analyzes every sentence, every word and glance and breath in the short interaction he’d shared with Bond. The double-oh is every bit as intriguing as he’d known he would be. Perhaps M wouldn’t use intriguing. Bloody irritating and irascible, perhaps, dismissive and derisory, certainly; however, Q cannot deny that he is curious about Bond. And perhaps that changes things.

_“I’ll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field”_

Q doesn’t realize they’re back at MI6 until Tanner practically drags him from the car. He walks on autopilot back to Q branch and makes a beeline for his laptop. He completely ignores his underlings and the projects underway, the various people trying to ask him questions or get his approval on the little details; he waves them off. All he cares about is the data on the computer, namely to check that Bond’s flight is on time and that the agent is actually on the plane and not in a gutter somewhere sleeping off a bottle of Scotch.

_“Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.”_

He’s definitely not imagining Bond holding the palm coded Walther PPK/s 9mm short handgun (something Q is actually quite proud of). He’s certainly not imagining Bond cleaned up and in a suit (a tuxedo if he's being honest). Nope. He’s decidedly not thinking about those piercing blue eyes and how they sized him up instantly and deemed him initially unworthy of Bond’s time or patience. And he is absolutely, completely, decidedly not memorizing how those eyes seemed to smile playfully at him, almost teasing him.

_“Or not pulled. It’s hard to know which in your pajamas.”_

Those eyes had been remarkably clear and expressive for someone returning from several months of self-pity and alcohol. Despite every effort to avoid thinking about them. Q suddenly imagines them in full seduction mode, directed at him, and then to put them in context, he pictures Bond’s whole face, then his body… so Q slams his elbow against the desk to try and clear his mind and redirect the blood that had been leaving his brain, swearing at the pain that radiates up his arm and knocking the mug off his desk in frustration. The porcelain shatters on the floor and spills now cold tea everywhere. Damn. He’d liked that mug.

_“You were expecting an exploding pen?”_

Nursing an aching elbow, Q brews himself a fresh cuppa in his Scrabble mug and returns to work. Only then does it occur to him exactly how long Bond’s plane ride is to Shanghai. And how long it will be before he contacts MI6 or Q branch again. Or if he’ll even be alive to do so.

_“Good luck out there in the field, and please return the equipment in one piece.”_

Oh fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and reviews are much appreciated. It really makes a difference.


	3. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After several days without sleep because Bond is a reckless idiot when on a mission, Q finally manages to rest. But it's not what he had in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be inspired by the fact that I've not slept more than 3 hours a night for the past several days. I wanted to write a chapter, and Q wrote it for me. Enjoy!

“Go home, Q.”

The Quartermaster only looks up from his desk and his computer because Eve has flatly refused to leave him alone for twenty straight minutes. He stares at her for a few seconds, glares a little, and returns to his computer.

“Q-“

“Moneypenny, I’m in really no mood to debate this right now. Until this mission is over and 007 has safely reached the EVAC rendezvous, I’m not leaving my desk.”

“You haven’t been home in four straight days, and no one has seen you sleep in that time.”

“You’re interfering with my work, Moneypenny-“

“Because you’re over-tired and if you keep pushing yourself like this, someone could get hurt.”

Q stiffens in his chair, every single muscle tense in his body. He resists the urge to shoot Eve a look that could halt a double-0 in his tracks. “I. Am. Fine.” He looks at his screen and sees security footage of Bond getting into the aircraft and it taking off. He exhales slowly and sits back. The last four days have been complete hell from the get go, and now that Bond is up and away… he feels like he can maybe begin to relax. “This was a delicate operation. You of all people should know how the slightest miscalculation can lead to injury.”

Eve doesn’t even look hurt. “He lived to tell the tale. Takes a lot more than a missed shot to kill James Bond.”

Q takes off his glasses and rubs his face tiredly. He probably has a few new faint lines permanently etched around his eyes from this mission. “I’ve read his files. Everything MI6 has on him. Even the classified files… but I have to ask. Is he always this damn reckless?”

The female agent in front of him dissolves into giggles. “You have much to learn about the ways of men, Q,” she teases. “He’s usually much worse than this.” She perches on the edge of his desk and scrutinizes him. “Go. Home. I’ll be here, so I’ll make sure he goes to medical. On my honor.”

The genius can’t help the faint smile that twitches his lips. Bond’s refusal to go to medical unless dragged there by the balls is legend among all who work at MI6. He reluctantly closes his computer and puts his second in command in charge of the team. Eve insists on escorting Q to the door, just to make sure he actually leaves and doesn’t sneak back in. He waves goodbye and watches her head inside.

Q uses the side entrance and is back in his office before Eve can make it back to Q-branch.

Locking himself in, Q resumes work with intense ferocity. He pointedly ignores Eve shouting at him through the door, though he’s slightly amused when she flips off the security camera over the door. She leaves soon after though, and he is able to pour himself back into work. His over tired eyes strain to make out the various codes and figures he has to process in order for the mission to be over. At two in the morning he is startled by a loud pounding on the door to his office.

“Eve says you’ve been up for four days.”

He would know that voice anywhere. Fuckfuckfuck.

“Eve is a busybody who needs more than a desk job to occupy her time.”

“I’ll tell her you said that. I’m sure nothing of yours will go missing in response.”

“You forget, Bond, that I’m her favorite in this… whatever this is with you.”

There’s a pause. “What?”

Fine. Play dumb. “Do you usually flirt with your Quartermaster or just when he’s young enough to still have spots?”

“Open the bloody door. Now.”

“You must have just gotten back. Have you been to Medical?”

“Open the door Q or I will blow it up.”

Q thinks he must have a death wish because he swallows his retort and disables the magnetic locks, letting in an equally tired secret agent whose powerful blue eyes look like they could actually shoot bullets. “007-“

James doesn’t dignify this with a response. He picks Q up in a fireman’s carry and hauls him out of his office.

“WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?!” Q very, very rarely yells.

“Saving you from yourself. And from exhaustion related illnesses. I don’t think MI6 could stand to lose its Quartermaster to anything right now.”

“Eve put you up to this didn’t she?”

James doesn’t answer, silently carrying the loudly protesting Q up to the garage and buckling him into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. Q crosses his arms and pouts like a child, more than a little put out by James’s behavior.

“You didn’t answer before. You haven’t been to Medical, have you?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a load of bullshit and you know it.”

“Why Q, I didn’t know you could swear.”

“I can do a lot bloody fucking more but I choose not to because there are other ways to eviscerate my opponents in verbal sparring than just throwing swear words in their general direction.”

James chuckles and grins at the younger man as he pulls up outside of his flat. He gets out and escorts Q inside, letting the genius walk because he is “perfectly capable of that, thank you Bond.” They walk inside together, and the first thing James does, after locking the door and checking the flat to make sure it is still secure, is pour a large Scotch for himself. “Drink?”

“No, thank you. I’d like to keep my wits about me.” Q looks around the room, noting the bare walls and sparse furniture. It smells… new. Empty. Almost dusty with a hint of lemon cleaner. This is not a home. It is simply a way station between missions. While Q is preoccupied with the flat, James downs the whole glass in one gulp, proceeding to pour another.

“Did they not have any alcohol in Tehran?”

James smirks at him. “I had no time to enjoy it. Surely you know that.”

Q keeps trying to stare Bond down, but everything is getting really fuzzy at the edges. Now that the adrenaline from work has worn off, he can feel the exhaustion dragging down his limbs. “I… I think I’ll lay down,” he mumbles before curling up on the sofa. Q takes off his glasses and sets them on the end table. He’s asleep before his head hits the cushion.

James sets down his empty glass and crouches by Q’s side for a few moments as he Quartermaster’s breathing slows down and grows more even. He begins to reach out, as if to brush the hair from Q’s eyes… but he stops and covers the young man with a blanket instead. The agent pours a third drink and goes to change, assessing his wounds. His chest and back are a fairly mottled shade of black, blue, yellow, and green. No knife or bullet wounds this time thankfully. He applies some cream to soothe the ache and pours more scotch into his system to aid in this effort. Finally, in a t-shirt and shorts, he softly walks back out to check on Q.

The young man is fast asleep, dead to the world for at least the next few hours. Reassured, James retreats to his own bedroom with the same idea: sleep.

But nightmares are the only thing that await him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? James maybe isn't totally oblivious after all. Comments and reviews always welcome!


	4. Earpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond is running from the bad guys and talking with Q. Flirting ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always loved this idea/trope in the 00Q world. It seems like the best use of MI6 equipment, anyway. Perhaps it could persuade James to stop breaking things.

“Which way?”

“Errr, second door on the left should do it. That should be the emergency stairs.”

Two gunshots. “Bond?” Silence. “007, say something please.”

“I’m through, it was jammed so I shot it open.”

“Are you _trying_ to tell people where you are?”

“They’re already chasing me, Q. It doesn’t get much more dangerous than this.”

“They could be shooting at you.”

“You do realize that’s like saying ‘Could be worse’, don’t you?”

“Two approaching around the right corner!” Heavy breathing, then two more shots. “You certainly don’t waste ammunition. EVAC is two minutes out.”

“So, when I come home, how about I take you out for drinks.”

Spluttering and coughing. “Did you just… ask me out? While you’re running for your bloody life?”

“Is there a better use of my current time?”

“Yes, three more behind that door.” Small explosion, soft coughing. Silence for a moment. “Did you have a place in mind?”

“There’s always my flat-“

“No, not an option.”

“Why not? Afraid you can’t resist my charms?”

Well… yes, actually. “More concerned that I wouldn’t be able to get home. I don’t drink by the bottle like you.”

“Which direction to EVAC? I’m outside.”

“Due north for half a mile. Plenty of trees for cover. You have a tendency to piss people off and get them to shoot you. And you could ruin your suit or equipment.”

“Like I would deliberately ruin things I use for work.”

“Bond, you break everything Q-branch gives you.”

“Not everything. I haven’t had you yet.” Silence for nearly half a minute. “Did you swoon?”

“Shut up, 007, I’m trying to get you to safety so I can kill you myself.”

“Admit it. You love me.”

“You are so full of yourself it’s embarrassing.”

“I think _you’d_ rather be full of me, but that’s my professional opinion.”

“As what? A rent boy?”

“No, I’m the wrong type. You, however, a little leather and eyeliner and you could be jailbait.”

“How the fuck are we having this conversation?”

“Because you only use secure lines when talking to me, ones that are encrypted that only you can access.”

Silence. “I have cats.”

“Q, what?”

“I have two cats. And I have to feed them. So I couldn’t stay the night.”

“What are their names?”

“Macavity and Rumpleteazer.”

“That’s… that’s what… _Cats_?” Silence. “You’re rolling your eyes at me, aren’t you? What did I say?”

“It’s from T.S. Eliot, 007.”

“And I’m pretty sure those names are used in a musical.” 

“You have no culture whatsoever.”

“See, you’re wrong. I do have culture. It’s a job requirement.”

“EVAC should be just over that hill.” Sudden gunfire. “007 report!” Silence. “Bond, can you hear me?” Silence. “I swear that if you’ve just been killed I will bring you back and-“ 

“-kill me yourself?”

“I fucking _hate_ you.”

“See you in three hours, Q. For that drink.”

“Fuck you, Bond.”

“Maybe later, Quartermaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your comments and reviews below! And I am always interested in hearing your headcanons and scenes you've always wanted to see in this pairing.


	5. Won't Say It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James isn't known for being the absolute best with words that carry real emotion, but he shows it in other ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, flirting, implied sex, adorable banter

They’ve been together for two months now (62 days, seven hours, fourteen minutes), but in all this time, the Quartermaster has noticed one thing.

James hasn’t once said “I love you.”

Q isn’t surprised or shocked by this revelation. Considering James’s history, particularly with Vesper, Q isn’t sure he ever really expects to hear those words either. He knows how thick his lover’s armor is. Q’s seen the security footage from several of James’s missions, how those blue eyes get a steely edge to them before James kills or tortures. Q sometimes spends hours reviewing the files in an attempt to learn more about the agent than he already does. He wants to know what makes the James tick. It can’t be just a “pathetic love of country.” No one would nearly drink themselves into a coma just for Queen and country. He won’t ask, though. It’s not the kind of thing they ever really discuss. More often than not, James is silent, or at least terse.

Sometimes, however, James is in a talking mood. After one particularly difficult mission that had left James very battered and with a few new potential scars, Q had spent most of evening hanging from the ceiling of their bedroom by his wrists while James drove him mad with teasing before _finally_ giving Q what he wanted. They’re lying in bed afterwards with the Quartermaster draped across James’s body. The double-oh begins to speak, very quietly, so Q has to really focus to hear him.

“I thought I was broken, Q. That there was nothing left of me that was still… soft… that could be selfless enough to care about another person. She… she ripped it from me when she drowned. When she refused to be saved.”

James sits up suddenly and pulls Q into his arms. He tilts the younger man’s face up to stare hard into his eyes. “Swear to me. Swear you will _never_ do that to me. No dissembling or espionage between us. Promise me.”

“Of course, James.”

“Q-“

“Okay, what am I swearing on? That horrible bulldog M left behind?”

The blue eyes twinkle a little, and Bond’s lip twitches. Q sits up a little straighter and raises his right hand. “Okay. I swear by that fuck-ugly dog statue that I will never prevent you from saving me.”

Bond must be satisfied with that because he actually relaxes enough to sleep. Q watches him, waiting until James is soundly under before murmuring, “I think you’ve stolen my heart, you bastard.”

So, no. Bond hasn’t stated out loud his love. But Q sees it in other things.

One. Bond brings all his equipment back intact. 2 missions in a row. He hears that most of MI6 have started placing bets on when James is going to snap.

Two. The agent will make him a new mug of tea whenever he is in Q-branch, regardless of the state of Q’s current cuppa. He is singlehandedly responsible for cleaning MI6 out of all their boxes of Earl Grey.

Three. He stops getting as drunk on missions or falling into bed with random women or men. Q never says a single word about this one because he knows James won’t give him a straight answer. But the man is actually trying to stay somewhat sober and faithful.

The one that really gets Qs attention though is when Bond begins to feed the cats.

It’s a simple thing, and Q doesn’t realize it the first time until after James finishes fucking him awake (by far the gentlest sex in his life until his eyes actually open: James above him, blue eyes blown black with lust, Q’s wrists pinned easily with one hand…).

As they lie panting together, he realizes the cats aren’t meowing. They aren’t crying for breakfast or scratching at the door or sitting on his head.

“James?”

“Hmmm?”

“You didn’t kill my cats, did you?”

Bond chuckles and tousles Q’s hair. “I fed them. While you slept. Neither of us has gotten much sleep this week and I wanted… wanted you to have a little more. Then I got bored waiting for you to wake up and you murmured my name in your sleep…”

Q props up on his arms to look at James. “You fed Macavity and Rumpleteazer.”

“Yes.”

“By yourself.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re unscathed?”

“You make it sound like they’re right terrors.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“They were sweet. Affectionate.”

“Yeah, well they’ve never seen you level a city block.” Q mulls this new information over for a few moments while James plays with his hair. The young Quartermaster relaxes against the secret agent as the strong fingers comb through his very messy curls. “You fed them so they wouldn’t wake me.” He feels James press a kiss to the top of his head before grinning.

“I wonder if you’re ticklish.”

“SO HELP ME JAMES!”

Maybe that’s exactly what James sees as love. Doing a chore to let his partner rest even for five more minutes.

And maybe, at the very least for now, it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments welcome!


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James doesn't know how to deal with changing nightmares or a lover who won't kick him out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of angst followed by loads of fluff. And huzzah, double posting!!!! This week has been /hell/ on my free time, but I saw "The Crucible" last night!!!!! Ben Whishaw is PHENOMENAL. 
> 
> I may have also seen Daniel Craig leave the stage door after the show

The second night Bond stays over, it happens.

He’s in Italy, walking with Vesper while the sun shines down on them and reflects off the water. She’s laughing and smiling like she always does when he’s near. She’s so warm and soft. The next second she’s in the elevator underwater and the water is suffocating and pressing on them both and he’s trying to break the door down-

And the dream _shifts_.

Did she always wear glasses? Surely her hair was longer. Her face isn’t this angular… She’s _drowning!_ -

“James. _James_!”

Bond wakes and moves without thinking, pinning the younger man beneath him by the throat. His eyes are open and wild and when he looks down he sees… Q. It’s just Q.

“You decided to wake a trained assassin during a nightmare? Are you mental?!”

“As opposed to what? An untrained assassin? And I probably am since I’m shagging you.” Q isn’t struggling or trying to fight James off. He’s lying perfectly still while James shakes off the nightmare, eyes a little unfocused without his…

… _glasses_.

The dream slams back into James as he pulls away and gets out of bed. He doesn’t look back at Q or speak to him; he goes for the Scotch instead. He returns a moment later with a bottle and two glasses. Q has tidied the covers and put his glasses on now. No longer squinting, he looks concerned. “Do you want to talk about it, James?”

The agent pours them each a large drink by way of a reply.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Q murmurs, watching with a slight frown as James drains his glass and then pours another. “Hmmm, no talking either. Pickling our livers instead. That’s quite productive.”

“They’re nothing new. I’m used to them.” James gives a hollow laugh and looks at Q; his smile doesn’t meet his ice cold eyes. “Occupational hazard for a trained assassin.”

“And do you usually call out my name during them? Followed by ‘God, no, please’?”

James fixes his expression into stone, aided by years of training to keep his face blank. The dream had shifted, changed from the normal pattern. Q had looked so terrified and helpless-He drains his glass and pours a third. “I’ll go kip on the sofa-“

“Oh no you aren’t. If you start that now, you won’t come back and you know it. You’ll run and I _refuse_ to be another notch on your incredibly chipped bedpost. You are staying in my bed tonight and I won’t hear another word about it. Don’t make me tie you down, James.”

Q stares down James until the agent sighs and sets the glasses aside. He takes a large swig from the bottle and sets it down too. Q gently guides him back under the covers and curls up in James’s arms. “I’m partial to being the little spoon. While I’m sharing, I’m also a light sleeper. If you leave, I will know, and I’ll send you on your next mission with a match, a paperclip, and a single stick of gum.”

James manages a soft chuckle, and Q, satisfied for now, closes his eyes and falls back to sleep. Only when James is sure Q won’t know does he begin to cry. He lets the fear and anger and upset pour out of him as he holds the Quartermaster close and sees all the people he’s ever lost, flickering in a constant loop behind his eyelids. His mum and dad, Vesper, M…

Q sighs and takes James’s hand in his sleep, distracting the agent from his morbid reverie. James squeezes gently for reassurance, and Q settles back down again with another quiet sigh.

James doesn’t sleep the rest of the night as he keeps watch over Q.

He doesn’t leave, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments always welcome!


	7. Musings- Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond's side of the bloody big ship scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've poured over this the last few days, but I'm still not sure I have it quite right. James is being very quiet right now. Not super talkative. Q on the other hand... he won't bloody shut up. Ahhh, muses.

_“What do you see?”_

_“A bloody big ship. Excuse me."_

James settles into his seat on the flight to Shanghai. He immediately orders a vodka martini (shaken, not stirred, of course), and exhales slowly. His mind is still on the meeting with the new Quartermaster, though how this… well, this child could be a proper Q is beyond him. Still, he does rather like the look of his new gun.

_“I’m your new Quartermaster.”_

_“You_ must _be joking.”_

The kid had just sat down beside him out of bloody nowhere to talk about _art_. Bond really couldn’t care less for the Turner or anything much in the museum. He just went where he was told to go like a good little soldier. Prove to M he can still be effective at his job, that he’s not obsolete quite yet. And then… The young man couldn’t be older than twenty-five, certainly not yet thirty. His skin is pale and smooth, unscarred on the face at least. His hair is an unruly mop of tousled, dark brown curls that are rather appealing (the curls look soft, and maybe they are), and his glasses… James can’t find any fault in the glasses. They frame Q’s face nicely if he’s willing to admit it. But Bond was not in a mood to be patronized.

 _“Because you still have_ spots _.”_

_“My complexion is hardly relevant.”_

_“Well your competence is."_

The young man had been almost pleasant to talk to in a slightly elitist sort of way. Certainly he’s very confident and spry and energetic while Bond had rather been feeling his age back in the cold, damp England air. The aching shoulder hadn’t helped matters there, though the ache has settled down now that he’s on the plane. Perhaps it’s the pre-mission adrenaline already. What surprised Bond most of all was how easily the Quartermaster was able to come right back, immediately, with a response.

_“Oh, then what do you need me for?"_

_“Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.”_

_“Or not pulled. It’s hard to know which in your pajamas.”_

He hadn’t had this kind of repartee in a while, but he doesn’t feel rusty. If anything, he craved more of it. He remembers smiling as Q handed him his things. He can’t wait to try the Walther, and the palm print code is a nice touch. It will certainly prevent an enemy from using his weapon on him. Just a gun and a radio… low tech mission.

_“Not exactly Christmas, is it?”_

He finds he doesn’t want to leave the young man suddenly, as Q stands to go. The Quartermaster had smiled, and Bond’s heart did something strange in his chest, almost stuttering before resuming its normal pattern. James watched as the Quartermaster departed before the agent rose to catch a life to Heathrow (his mobile buzzed insistently that Tanner has a car and that Bond is to get in _now_ or M will have him by his balls).

_“Brave New World.”_

James opens his eyes and stares around at his surroundings as the plane begins to take off. He’s back in the field now, for better or for worse, he supposes. It’s going to be a very long flight to Shanghai unless he gets some sleep. Another vodka martini should help with that. Now he just has to find Patrice, question him, and then kill him very painfully. He knows that part will give him great pleasure in the end.

Now he just needs to get back in one piece so he can speak to Q again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave your comments at the beep. :)


	8. Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Q and James flirt a ton and get to know each other better. Somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much credit for this chapter goes to StartWithTheRidingCrop who said that James is basically walking sex and would joke about putting Q's smart mouth to work. 2000+ words later...

_3 weeks after Skyfall…_

Q is finally starting to relax a little at work, no longer constantly worried that 007 will just disappear in a blatant episode of self-pity and depression. The first week after M’s death, everyone had walked around the agent like he were made of cracked glass. No one really knew what to say, and James wasn’t offering up anything useful. When 007 walks into a room and Q could practically see the tension levels rise, he knew things had to change soon or the man might implode.

So a terrorist attack on London is actually perfectly timing.

James gets to run around the city, blow up a couple buildings he considers “eyesores” despite Q pleading with him over the earpiece. The agent gets the adrenaline rush he’s badly needed in order to put M’s death behind him and get back to work.

“007, stop. What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Q? Canary Wharf has to go.”

“WHAT?! There isn’t even any terrorist activity there.”

“There was. They just left. But it’s still a hotbed and must be taken down. There could be Daleks or Cybermen in there too.”

Q blinks. James Bond watches _Doctor Who_?! “I can assure you there are no signs of alien lifeforms or metal lifeforms in the building. Now, 007, report back to MI6 RIGHT NOW or _so help me_ -“

“You know Q, you talk far too much in telling me what to do. I bet I know a much better use for that smart mouth of yours.”

The Quartermaster turns a rather vibrant shade of pink, thankful he isn’t on a video call with the agent. And that 006 is on a different channel altogether.

“007, please return to MI6. Or better yet, actually chase after the-“ Gunshots ring out over the connection, and Q swears. “They’ve returned, haven’t they?”

“Isn’t it brilliant?”

“Only you would consider terrorism the way a child at Christmas would regard a Lego set.”

“Why Q, you used to be a child?”

Q rolls his eyes. “Tell you what. You bring back your equipment in one piece and I’ll share a childhood memory with you.”

“Done. But I get to pick.”

“Not a chance.”

“Do you want this Walther back intact or not?”

“You know what? Fuck you, Bond.”

He can practically hear James smirking over the line. “Maybe someday I’ll let you."

Q chokes on his tea, muting the microphone to splutter and clear his lungs before guiding James through the rest of the mission. Canary Wharf sadly does not survive.

***

When James returns, it’s a bit sooty, various cuts and bruises on his arms and a rather spectacular split lip, but his piercing blue eyes are shining with joy and excitement and the high of an adrenaline rush. He drops his intact gun and slightly battered earpiece on Q’s desk. “I needed the hand grenades, so I used them. But I brought everything else back.”

Q expertly checks them over, dismantling the gun with expert efficiency. James is suddenly very interested in watching Q work, more than any other previous Quartermaster. The dark haired man examines each piece thoroughly as he sets them down, finally checking the magazine and nodding. He then reassembles the piece in less than a minute. James is staring at him, barely breathing and aware of how much he suddenly wants Q.

It’s a stronger want than he’s felt since _no not going there not thinking her name go AWAY Venice_ and James frowns slightly. Trying to shake the memories, he looks up at Q and notices the Quartermaster biting his own tongue in concentration; the agent’s lips twitch into a little smirk. Not only is it adorable, but James wonders if it is just as soft as it looks and how it would feel on his cock. The man’s hands and fingers are slender and strong too, probably wonderful accessories to a blow job… Of course, that’s when Q looks up, sees the surprise and barely concealed delight on James’s face, and smirks at him.

“James, I design these. You think I wouldn’t know how to take them apart and put them back together again?” When James keeps smiling, Q narrows his eyes. “Did you get a concussion out there, Bond?”

James exhales and taps Q’s desk. “Rain check on that memory,” is all he says before walking out of the room.

“Vexing,” Q grumbles to himself before going back to work.

***

_2 months after Skyfall…_

Q’s fingers fly over his keyboard as he fights to extract James from South Africa. His directions to the agent are brief and, he’s proud of this, manage not to sound panicked. The mission had turned into a shit show from the moment James landed in the bloody country. The idiot had nearly lost a hand earlier in the day and just recently narrowly avoided losing both his legs; the informant hadn’t been so lucky.

“It’s another right up here, Bond. Yes, there, turn bloody right!”

“I can’t, it’s blocked.”

“Then please 007, wait for them to catch you while I remotely blow it up. Should only take a few hours.”

“You know Q, if I didn’t know better, I would think you sound stressed.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“Your tone of voice. Irritation instead of uncontrollable flirting.”

Q snorts. “Flirting? With you? In your dreams, Bond.”

The Quartermaster is not far from the mark though he doesn’t know it; James has been dreaming more frequently of Q the past few weeks, but he isn’t going to say so. “You still owe me that childhood memory.”

“Right now? I’m a bit busy trying to keep you alive, Bond.”

“Then tell me when I’m on the plane. Cashing in my rain check. And remember, it’s my pick.”

Q stifles a groan of annoyance and guides Bond down several back alleys and through a brothel (bad idea but out of options) and onto the tarmac for his EVAC. It’s a narrow miss, and they only just manage to get into the air and out of range before the tarmac explodes. Q sinks back into his chair and exhales slowly in relief. He reaches for his tea, sips, and scrunches up his face in disgust. It’s gone bloody cold. Again. He gets up and turns on his electric kettle to make a new cuppa when James speaks.

“So. I want to hear about your first time.”

Q is suddenly very glad he isn’t holding his mug. He would have dropped it. “Do you ever think about anything other than sex or alcohol? I thought you wanted something from my _childhood_.”

“You’ve seen my files. I’m sure you know the answer to that question already, Q. And in answer to your other question, it counts if you weren't a full adult yet. Now. Tell me.”

“So demanding.” Q leans against the table as he gets out a fresh mug and tea bag. “There’s not much to tell. It wasn’t what you would call particularly memorable. He was older and neither of us really knew what we were doing. It hurt. A lot. And his parents walked in… they didn’t know he was gay.” He stares at the floor as the memory comes back to him. “I remember grabbing my clothes and running, and at school, I was tenth form and he was twelfth, he had a girl on his arm the next day. And every day until we graduated. He never spoke to me again.”

The kettle whistles and Q pours himself tea, letting it steep for two-and-a-half minutes. “I’m surprised that’s the memory you wanted.”

James is silent on the other end, imagining it all and finding that he very much wanted to give Q a fun and memorable time, one that would supersede such an awful first time. The Quartermaster adds milk and two sugars to his cuppa before James speaks again.

“Thank you for telling me, Q.”

Neither one of them acknowledge the sudden solemnity of the moment. Q has to get back to work and Bond has to forward the information he had managed to steal before people had started blowing up. They return to work, but James spends more of his time than usual daydreaming, wanting more than anything to see Q smile.

***

_3 months after Skyfall…_

It is now an almost everyday occurrence to see James hanging around in Q-branch. The Quartermaster just tries to ignore him most of the time and get his work done, though it’s rather difficult to focus with James around. Sometimes he want to talk. Which means flirting. Or sexual innuendos all over the place. Q doesn’t mind those as much as he thought he would. He feels secretly proud that James wants to spend time with him, even if he’s just going to go out on missions and sleep with other people. It’s not like they’re together or anything. _God he wants to be with James Bond_.

James spends his time watching Q, learning his mannerisms and getting to know him better. He knows the exact angle of Q’s head when he’s exasperated versus when he’s just mildly irritated. He knows the way Q’s eyes light up when he has a new idea or finishes a project. He can see the tension twisting up Q’s shoulders and back when he opens his email and sees three hundred new messages in less than an hour. James can’t stop looking at Q’s mouth while he works because the way he bites his tongue while he works is just beyond adorable and ever so enticing.

He’s also been wondering what expression Q would make if he sipped his tea and it hadn’t gone cold. He only has to wait a week to see. James walks into Q-branch just as the Quartermaster finishes making a fresh cup; the younger man doesn’t see him before he sips it. The look of bliss and pure joy on his face makes James smile. Practically a toothy grin. Q looks up to see James smiling at him. When James smiles, usually it’s time to run. “Bond? Why are you smiling? Should I be concerned?”

James realizes Q is talking to him and leans back against the wall. “Just thinking. About what you would look like on your knees,” he says because playful innuendo is easier and less embarrassing than ‘you make an orgasm face when you drink fresh tea.’ He watches Q blush and grins again. “Do you ever imagine it?”

“Out, Bond. Some of us have work to do.”

James doesn’t move, instead coming around the desk to lean close and whisper in Q’s ear. “Because I have been thinking about it. Sometimes, alone on a mission and waiting to come home, I think about you. Sometimes I pick up men instead of women because I want to imagine your body beneath me. One of these days, I think you’ll relent. And then you’ll be _mine_ , Q. And I will ruin you for all other men for the rest of your life.”

Q swallows hard and doesn’t move; if he does, it will draw far too much attention to the erection now straining his trousers. “007, some of us really do have to work, and you’re in my personal space.”

James lingers for a few more seconds, getting a deep whiff of Q’s slightly minty soap, then straightens up and walks out of Q-branch. Q immediately locks the door to his office and turns on the tinted windows so no one can see him. He pulls himself out of his trousers and begins to stroke his cock, quickly and not with a great deal of finesse. The thing is, he _has_ imagined that. Many times. He wants James so badly that he is wanking in his bloody office at MI6. He wants to kiss the agent, wants to see him naked when it’s not for an exam in Medical, wants to have him in his bed. He wants to hear James give orders, growl, wants to feel those teeth sink into his skin and leave possessive bruises. He wants to hear James say his name when he comes.

With a gasp and a barely stifled moan, Q comes in his hand and slumps against his desk, breathing hard for a moment. He’s so buggered now. He’s falling for James Fucking Bond, the master of emotional denial and self-medication. There is no way this works where Q doesn’t wind up hurt in the end. But if James offers again… Q won’t refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and reviews are always welcome!!!
> 
> Their first time is coming very soon..


	9. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James and Q finally do it or the chapter that earned an E rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to gear up to this chapter for 2 weeks, not entirely sure how to approach it. After writing Chapter 8, this began to write itself. I've now written over 6000 words today in chapters 8 and 9 combined. 
> 
> Time to take a break. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> If you don't like the buttsex, maybe skip this chapter.

Everyone in MI6 is relieved when James gets back from this mission. Q-branch hasn’t slept in three straight days, all other double-oh agents have been on standby in case he needed backup. The number of times James had almost died this time around is enough to make even 006 ask if 007 were okay when he shows up in Medical. Bond tries to wave him off, but Alec didn’t get this far by being a pushover. He’s tenacious and refuses to leave until James gives him a straight answer.

“Alec, I’m _fine_.”

“You’ve not been here the last week. You haven’t seen what it was like here. I don’t think Q has slept since you _left_ , James. How long are you going to do this to him? Drag him along, scare him, nearly get killed-“

“It’s the job-“

“Bullshit. It isn’t the job to lead your Quartermaster on while flirting with everything that moves. If you hadn’t been doing that, then you wouldn’t have nearly died so many times.” He gently touches the bandage around James’s neck. “You have to stop sleeping with women who try to use garrote wire on you in your sleep.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t asleep. I just needed information.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO FUCK PEOPLE FOR INFORMATION JAMES!”

Everyone in Medical turns to look at their room at that outburst. The head nurse (Rebecca, silver haired and no nonsense) pokes her head in the room and fixes both men with a determined, calculating look. “Do I need to separate you boys?”

James has enough sense to look slightly abashed even if Alec just grins at the woman. “I’m just about to leave.” When Rebecca goes back into the hall, Alec gets right in James’s face. “Stop fucking around here, Bond. It won’t kill you to care about Q. Or to show it in a way that doesn’t get either one of you killed. Besides, you need a bit of fun. I’m not saying tonight because let’s face it, you look like shit. But both of you get some rest and then take him to dinner and shag his brains out.”

“At dinner?”

Alec grins and claps James on the shoulder, right on top of a particularly deep knife wound. “Don’t be a prat,” he growls and then walks out. He’s replaced almost instantly by Eve, who comes almost running into the room.

“Hello Moneypenny.”

“About time you got back. Q hasn’t-“

“Slept since I left. So I heard. He didn’t need to be so vigilant-”

Eve’s eyes flash, and suddenly James can picture what it would look like if she were to shoot him and mean it this time. “He hasn’t stopped working. I had to drug his tea at one point to make him sleep and he was _not_ happy about that. He kicked me out of Q-branch and revoked my clearance for that entire floor for two days.”

James chuckles a little. “He’s very clever. And you don’t need to give me a lecture. Alec was just in here doing that. He beat you to it.”

Eve punches him in the arm, definitely adding another bruise to the canvas of his skin. “You’re a fucking idiot, James Bond.”

“Tell me something I haven’t heard repeatedly for the past week. It’s all Q says right now. That I’m an idiot. Several times an hour there towards the end. Look. I’m going to let things wind down and take him out to dinner, okay? I know Alec will shoot out my kneecaps if I don’t and you’ll probably finish the job. I’ll… I’ll stop being all talk.”

Eve perches on the bed and sighs. “You’ve been leading him on for the better part of five months, Bond. Ever since Skyfall. And there is a huge pool going around in MI6 as to when you two are finally going to do it. I have quite a bit riding on Friday. Think you could manage that?”

“How large is the pool?”

“I think it just crossed one hundred thousand pounds.”

James stares at her and then grins. “Only if you cut me in. Can I put fifty thousand down for it under your name? Split the winnings with me?”

Moneypenny laughs and punches him in the arm again. “Only if you take him someplace nice”

“I know a place… He’s going to think this is a temporary thing. Or something that I’m getting out of my system.”

“Is it?”

James stares at the wall and doesn’t speak. He doesn’t think it is, but everyone who has ever gotten properly close to him has ended up dead… but he can’t deny it anymore. He doesn’t want to stay away from Q any longer.

“Just don’t hurt him,” Eve murmurs in the doorway before heading back to work.

Don’t hurt Q. He can’t guarantee it but he will try. That’s all he can do now.

***

That was Monday. Now it’s Friday.

M insists that James take a full week for recovery considering the number and extent of his injuries this past mission. He spends a lot of his free time in the gym, working out in plain view of the cameras, often without a shirt. He knows Q is watching because whenever he drops by Q-branch, at least once a day, the Quartermaster blushes when he notices Bond. Today however, James arrives in his pale grey suit with a blue tie that he’s told brings out his eyes. Q is in what must be his favorite mustard colored cardigan with the knitted blue tie.

“Q.”

“007.”

“It’s five. Shouldn’t you be headed home?”

“Not all of us have the luxury of mandated leave from work. Not that you’ve really left.”

James nudges the door shut behind him and leans over Q’s desk. “I want to take you to dinner.”

Q looks up at him, positive he did not just hear that from James Bond. “Take me to dinner,” he repeats.

“Yes.”

“Out in London.”

“Yes.”

“You and me?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Q. Yes. You and me out in London, probably for Indian actually if that’s all right.”

Q leans back from his desk, putting space between them and crosses his arms. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you to dinner. And then back to mine.”

“No, not yours. Back to mine.”

“Oh, right. The cats.”

“Yes, the cats. I happen to care a great deal about my cats.” In truth, Q’s heart is pounding so loudly in his ears that he wonders how James can’t hear it. James is trying to ask him on a date, and he is being an idiot. But he’s positive this only ends with James leaving him afterwards. So… negotiation. “You can take me to dinner and back to mine on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“You stay the night. You don’t leave right after.”

James is quiet for a few seconds and then nods. “Done.” He had been planning to stay anyway, but at least this way Q might relax a little. The Quartermaster closes his laptop and stands, stretching slowly. James can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, the way Q’s body moves as he shakes off the stiffness from working at a desk all day. James walks around the desk to stand closer to Q, to _finally_ be allowed to stand in the man’s space.

Q looks up at James, realizing they’re closer in height than he realized, even though James still has a few inches on him. He watches those blue eyes he’s dreamed about for so long examining his face, and then Bond does something he wasn’t expecting. He runs his hand through Q’s hair.

The Quartermaster’s eyes flutter closed at this gentle touch, and it’s all he can do to not go weak at the knees. It feels so good, so calming to have James do that, and from the single touch, he’s lost to James. Q opens his eyes just enough to see James lean in, and he brings his own arms up and around the agent’s neck as they finally kiss.

Q’s lips are every bit as soft as James had imagined. He continues stroking his fingers through Q’s hair as he hums into the kiss. Q opens his mouth first, letting James’s tongue dart in to taste. The agent chuckles as he deepens the kiss; Q tastes like Earl Grey and shortbread. Despite his best attempts to keep things chaste, soon James is growling and tugging Q’s hair to direct the man’s head the way he wants in order to kiss him more thoroughly. The Quartermaster hangs on for dear life until he forgets to breathe and nearly faints in James’s arms.

Sensing Q’s need, James pulls back enough to rest their foreheads together so Q can gasp for air in an adorably undignified manner. Q can barely think straight now let alone keep his balance. He’s leaning against James as he catches his breath. _Fuck_ , but that was hands down the best kiss of his life. Slowly, he looks up at James to see the agent smirking at him.

“All right there, Q?”

Q glares at him and stands up straight again, silently thankful that his legs don’t give out. He picks up his coat and messenger bag before looking expectantly at James. “So? Food?”

More than a little amused, James leads the way out of Q-branch. Every single underling turns to look at them as they head out of MI6 and into London in the evening.

***

Dinner is actually quite pleasant. Q will never turn down chicken tikka masala and naan when given the chance, and James certainly seems to enjoy his lamb brianni. It’s so ordinary and bloody normal that Q has a hard time trusting it. He knows what is coming, what he hopes is coming up later that evening. Dinner is mostly a formality. He doesn’t notice the way James watches him eat, clean his plate. He doesn’t realize that James is actually very aware that Q survives on tea, biscuits, and Chinese takeaway most of the time. The agent is thrilled that Q eats a whole meal, and he relaxes a little once their plates are clean. James pays, refusing Q’s wallet pointedly. “I’ve got this, Q. Dinner is on me.”

“Is this where I say that I hope you’re on me later?”

Those blue eyes actually fucking twinkle when James grins at him. “Oh I do hope so.”

Q’s ears are red as James calls them a cab. “Where to, Q?"

Q gives an address that’s actually several blocks away, but then again, he never goes directly home. It would be too easy for someone to tail him. He and James sit in the back seat of the cab, not talking. The agent has decided now is the perfect time to begin gently rubbing Q’s thigh. Each time the hand goes back and forth, it gets closer and closer to Q’s crotch, and his cock has taken interest. James’s hand the only point of contact between them, and it’s driving Q crazy.

By the time the cab pulls to a stop and Bond pays for the ride, Q has to scramble out and into the cold and damp in order to clear his head; James is smirking as he follows. Q begins to walk, heading past the house they’d been dropped at, so James falls into step next to him.

“You’re very quiet.”

“I’m concentrating.”

“Why Q-“

“Oh no, don’t even think about it. All that flirting this far from my place? You can wait until we get there to do anything else. God James, I can’t even _think_ around you half the time.”

Bond reaches down and takes Q’s hand, slowing their pace so he can lace their fingers together. “Neither can I,” he murmurs softly. “What you do to me, Q… I don’t want to wait any longer. How much farther?”

“Two blocks.”

So they walk in silence, holding hands. Q’s glad for the darkness so James can’t see him blushing again, but James knows. He can see how red Q’s ears are again.

They arrive at Q’s flat, heading up to the top floor of the building. Q lets them in with a passcode, palm print, and retinal scan; they are greeted by two meowing cats.

“Macavity and Rumpleteazer I presume?”

“Presume all you like. Yes, that’s them.” Q closes the door and sets his bag down before crouching to pet both cats. They lick his hand and wind around his legs before going over to examine James. To Q’s utter surprise, both cats begin rubbing up against the agent. “Well fuck me,” he whispers. “They hate everyone but me.”

James shrugs out of his coat and carefully steps around the cats. “Apparently they don’t. And to the first thing,” his eyes shine wickedly and he pushes Q against the closed door of the flat, “I think I will.” The agent’s voice is a growl as he finally seals their mouths together. This time, he has leverage as well. He keeps his right knee pressed between Q’s legs while his hands work to restrain Q. One hand pins Q’s wrists above his head, and the other pulls on his hair.

Q squirms and moans into the kiss. His cock is rock hard again as he grind shamelessly against James’s leg. He loves the feeling of being restrained, knowing that James is making note of that little detail. Just when Q is starting to think that his lips are going to be bruised beyond use, James pulls back. Those gorgeous blue eyes are mostly black now, the color pushed into a thin ring around the edge. “Where’s your bedroom?” James growls.

“D-down the hall, second door on the left.”

James scoops Q up and carries him, much to the Quartermaster’s embarrassment.

“I can bloody walk, James!”

“If I have to watch you walk to your room, then I’ll shag you on the floor before we even get there.”

Q gasps at that, opening the door when he’s within reach. His room is very tidy, the bed against the wall that faces the window so he can have natural light when he wants. There is an end table on each side of the bed, and the bathroom is through on the other end of the room. His wardrobe is against that far wall as well. He’s secretly thankful that he’d tidied up this week when James drops him to the bed. Q will forever deny that he squeaked when he hit the mattress.

“OI!”

James just smirks and leans down over Q, forcing the Quartermaster back against the duvet. “Yes, Q?” he purrs softly. His voice sounds like honey on a knife, seductive yet dangerous.

“I-that is-James…” He’s actually flustered now.

James finds it adorable. The agent runs his hands up Q’s torso to his neck, loosening the tie. “One of these days, perhaps I’ll use this as a blindfold. But not tonight. I want to see your eyes, want you to watch everything I do.” He takes off Q’s tie before pulling off the Quartermaster’s cardigan and shirt. He drops them to the floor so he can properly explore Q’s body.

The Quartermaster isn’t just lying back though. Q is trying to take off James’s tie and jacket and shirt, much to the agent’s amusement. He doesn’t want this to be over too quickly. He _had_ promised Q, after all, that he would ruin him for all other sex. Those tricky hands will just have to be restrained. Remembering the door, James leans back and slowly takes off his tie, making sure Q is watching. Then, with reflexes that have kept him alive for decades, he pulls Q’s wrists up and binds them to the headboard with his blue silk tie.

Q’s green eyes blow wide with lust when he finds himself restrained. He stares up at James and swallows hard. He can see how much James wants this, wants him. He tries to tell himself it won’t last, that it’s just the one night and he shouldn’t hope for more, but those eyes seem to promise so much.

“That’s better,” James purrs before sitting back on his heels and indulging Q. He removes his jacket and shirt, taking off his TARDIS cufflinks (Q is determined to one day find out how deep James’s obsession with _Doctor Who_ actually goes) and setting them on the empty end table before removing his shirt completely. He then holds still so Q can take in the sight of James half naked. “Do you like what you see, Q?”

The younger man nods, his mouth suddenly very dry. Even with the scars, James looks like a bloody Greek statue. He then watches as James stands before stripping the rest of the way. All his clothes wind up on the floor and he stands naked at Q’s feet. Smirking, James reaches up and undoes Q’s belt, pulling the leather out loop by loop. “Belts are wonderful for easy bondage,” he comments before undoing Q’s trousers. He stops to pull off Q’s shoes and socks before removing the trousers as well. He leaves Q in his pants for a moment, fingers lightly dancing over the man’s trapped erection. James’s cock his hard and standing at attention between his legs, in full view of his soon to be lover. Only when Q begins to try and rock up into the touch does he remove the pants and drop them to the side.

Q watches as James crawls back up the bed to kiss him, and he whimpers when James bites his lip, tugging lightly with his teeth. “Don’t-don’t tease James.”

“And why not, Quartermaster?”

“Because, _007_ , this is my bed and my flat and my rules.”

That doesn’t have exactly the reaction he’s expecting. James’s eyes darken and he takes Q very gently by the throat. “What’s your safe word, Q?”

Q forgets how to speak for a few seconds. “Uh, it’s, it’s binary.”

James nods, satisfied. He leans down to kiss Q’s ear, grinding their cocks together very slowly as he does. “You see, _Q_ , I will take all the time I like. Your job in all this is not to come until after I’m inside you and fucking you with my very thick cock.” He licks the shell of Q’s ear and kisses down to bite and suck a large mark into Q’s neck that will show above the collar of his shirts.

Q moans and writhes beneath James. It hurts in all the right ways, and it’s been far too long since he’s had anyone in his bed. He’d forgotten how sensitive his neck is, or how wonderful it is for a lover to leave marks. He’s even willing to ignore the fact that everyone in work will see it when he next goes in. He whines when James stops working on the mark, but the agent is just getting started.

James kisses down to Q’s nipples, swirling his tongue around each one until they pebble nicely for him. Everything he does teaches him more about Q. When he begins to suck on them, tugging with his teeth, Q tries to arch off the bed, both squirming towards and away from James. Duly noted. Smirking, James works his way down Q’s stomach, lightly scratching down Q’s sides until he reaches the younger man’s cock.

It’s been too long since James has properly had another man. He’s had a fair few men and women on missions, but somehow Q is both different and new. The young man is almost gagging for it, and when James sucks another love bite into Q’s inner thigh, he nearly gets kicked in the head. He has to pin Q’s leg while his mouth works. Then he turns his head and leaves an identical mark on Q’s other inner thigh.

The Quartermaster is almost sobbing from the teasing torture when James sits back again. His eyes are bright, face and chest flushed. He already looks debauched, but not as much as he will once James is inside him.

“Lube and condoms?”

“T-Top d-drawer… oh fucking hell…”

James gets them out before grabbing a few pillows that he slides under Q’s hips to help give him a better angle and leverage. He dribbles the lube onto Q’s hole as well as his first fingers before slowly, painfully slowly, beginning to work them into the younger man. He strokes slow circles around the quivering muscle first, watching Q’s face the whole time. Only when it looks like Q might swear at him does he slowly push the finger past the first ring of muscle and into Q.

The Quartermaster’s eyes widen before rolling back into his head with a long, low moan. James pumps and twists his finger slowly, amazed at how hot and soft and tight Q feels around him. His other hand begins to play with Q’s cock, thumbing the leaking slit at the tip, gently stroking down to the base and back up with a little twist of the wrist. Q whimpers and squirms, eyes still closed.

“Look at me.”

Q ignores him, trying to regain control of himself again.

“Q, _look at me_.”

His eyes open at the order and meet James, those blue eyes meeting his gaze as James deliberately adds a second finger. Q gasps and tugs at the bonds holding him to the headboard. He whines and whimpers desperately, so turned on that it bloody hurts. He’s never felt like this with a lover. Ever. In his whole life. Everything is about this moment right here, right now. It’s all about James and those fingers inside him- and then Q sees stars. James must have found his prostate from the way his eyes begin to almost cross. He hears James chuckle and feels him curl those wicked fingers again, and it’s only James’s hand squeezing the base of his cock that keeps Q from coming right then and there.

James keeps up pumping his fingers, a little faster now. His own cock is aching from neglect, but he can’t look away. Q looks gorgeous like this, completely laid bare before him and under him. He begins to scissor and spread his fingers, adding a third. He doesn’t know how much pain Q likes when it comes to sex, but that first time memory Q shared with him has him determined to have this be as pleasurable as possible.

Q isn’t sure he can take much more of this when James finally removes his fingers. The agent gets up and heads into the bathroom, washing his hands and fetching a few towels that he brings back. He then tears open the condom packet and rolls it onto his aching erection before climbing back onto the bed. He leans down to capture Q’s lips in an almost lazy kiss. “Ready?”

“I was ready fifteen minutes ago,” Q snarls. His wrists are far better bound than he initially thought which is both exhilarating and infuriating. He can’t do anything but watch as James spreads his legs to look at him.

The secret agent lines up his cock with Q’s loosened hole, nudging the head against it until it slips inside. He swears several times, gripping his own base. He refuses to lose control this soon. Looking up at Q, James pushes in slowly but steadily until he is buried inside the younger man completely.

Q keens in the back of his throat when James is finally inside him. He had forgotten how it was to feel this full, how amazing a hard cock could be. He watches as James gets settled before leaning down and kissing Q again. He doesn’t move quite yet, but Q is tired of waiting. He smirks against James’s lips and clenches hard.

James very nearly comes from that and swears loudly. He sees Q’s expression and growls. He grips Q’s hips and snaps his own, slamming into Q and making the younger man scream.

It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his life.

It’s a sound of pure surrender and pleasure, and it’s all for _him_. Q’s face is open in pleasure, mouth slack from moaning and eyes closed again. James leans down as he snaps his hips and nips at Q’s lips. “Open those pretty eyes, Q. Look at me while I fuck you.”

Q whimpers as he obeys. He finds his face mere inches from James as the older man moves inside him. It feels so _fucking_ good that he can’t think at all. He wants to come, wants it to last, can’t decide, but he doesn’t want James to go anywhere. Q hooks his legs around James’s hips, trying to pull him in deeper as they move.

Bond growls and speeds up, pounding relentlessly into Q. He crushes their mouths together again, his fingers running through Q’s gorgeously soft hair. He tugs and makes Q whimper, then does it again just to get that noise. He adjusts his angle, aiming for Q’s prostate and when he slams into it, the resulting scream seems to tear itself out of Q’s throat. James growls and leans down to Q’s ear. “Come on, pet. Come for me. Come on my cock, while I’m fucking you. Come while I mark your body. While I leave marks from my mouth in your skin. Come because I’m ordering you to, Q. Come _now_.”

Q forgets how his body works when his orgasm seems to explode out of him. The heat coiled in his gut pours out through his cock and coats his chest in his release. He tightens around James reflexively, crying his name and whimpering and sobbing from pleasure. James follows Q over, leaving another love bite, this time on Q’s collarbone as he empties into the condom.

They both collapse to the mattress, and for the first few seconds, neither one of them can move. James is still working on the love bite which just makes Q whimper brokenly. James is finally the one to move, pulling out and disposing of the condom before coming back with a damp flannel. He gently cleans Q’s release from their chests before untying the man’s wrists and rubbing the feeling back into them. Q is so blissed out that he’s almost asleep. As James begins to tuck him in, Q grabs his hand and opens his eyes. “Stay. Stay the night, James. You promised.”

James climbs under the covers with Q and pulls the younger man against his chest. “I did, didn’t I?” he teases softly, stroking Q’s hair and making the younger man hum happily. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Q is smiling when he finally falls asleep. Suddenly more tired than he realized, James follows him into dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and reviews always welcome.


	10. Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after Chapter 1, which of course comes after Chapter 9. James and Q try to have a discussion after their first night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be some smut and James trying to express himself. Also flirting.

James follows Q through into the kitchen, neither one of them bothering with clothes. Q puts the kettle on, then feeds the cats. They share a small can of soft food in a little bowl with cyborg fish all over it. James finds himself smiling at it before turning to look at Q. The Quartermaster gets out two mugs, milk, and sugar. “I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee, James. You’ll have to make do this morning.”

“It’s not a problem.”

And it isn’t. Not really. James is more worried in that moment about what Q is going to say. Was last night a one-time thing? Does he want more? Was it not as good for him as it had looked or sounded or felt? He’s so consumed by his thoughts that James doesn’t hear the kettle whistle a moment later. Q pours them each a cup, steeping the tea and fixing it with milk and sugar. He hands a simple, plain cream mug to James and takes his own Scrabble mug for himself. James watches, smiling as Q makes that same face when drinking perfectly brewed hot tea that he does at the moment of orgasm.

“007, you’re smirking.”

“Because you make sex faces when you drink tea.”

Q looks at him indignantly. “I certainly do not.”

“I saw it a few weeks back. When the tea is fresh and hot and fixed the way you like it, you look like you’ve just come. It’s quite a fetching look on you.”

Q blushes a little but doesn’t set down his tea. He needs the caffeine to help wake him the rest of the way up. “So… last night… I want to know what your understanding of this is and what your expectations are.”

James stares into his own mug, mulling it over. Q has a fair question. What does James want out of all this? The answer is far simpler than he’d imagined.

“I want you. I’m not sure of much past that, but I definitely want you. Last night was… definitely enjoyable. It’s something I would willingly repeat on numerous occasions if you wanted. You know true exclusivity is an impossibility in my line of work, but when I’m back here… we could be dating.”

“Dating. Dating James Bond. That has a nice ring to it. What about Mallory? We would need to declare a relationship to HR. Formality of course. And yes, dating counts as a relationship, James.”

“Then we fill out the paperwork. That doesn’t really have me very concerned.”

“No, you don’t really go in for that sort of thing.”

James watches Q drain his mug of tea and set the cup aside. “I don’t really know what I want, Q. This is, as I’m sure you’ll say, new territory for me. And… Are you sure I’m the person you want to be with? You could have anyone you want. After last night I’m convinced of that.”

The younger man walks over slowly to run his hands up James’s toned, scarred chest. “You do realize that we’ve spent a grand total of one night together. You’re a fantastic kisser, an above average lover-“ James snorts and opens his mouth to retort, but Q places a single pale finger to the agent’s lips, “-but we have time. You have three more days of leave for us to figure this out.”

“Two days. M gave me a week.”

Q smirks. “I may have changed the date in the system yesterday. So three days. I brought my laptop home because I will actually go into withdrawal if I don’t get to work for two hours. You can give domestic a try. My bet is you’ll run halfway around the world after three days. But think of it as a chance to actually get to know your newest lover.” He leans up and kisses James slowly, licking into the man’s mouth before sliding down to his knees in front of James. The blond is certainly paying attention now, his blue eyes focused completely on Q.

The Quartermaster looks up at James and smirks, taking Bond’s cock in hand and stroking it slowly until James is hard. Then, still staring up at his lover, he leans forward to swirl his tongue around the thick head. He wants to see as James’s pupils blow and push the piercing blue out to the very edges of his eyes. He wants to give James a reason to stay, and if mind blowing sex is a selling point, he will pull out every trick in the book.

James brings his hands up to bury them in Q’s hair, stroking gently until Q suddenly swallows him all the way to the hilt. The agent swears, tugging sharply on the dark hair in his hands, and he feels Q bloody _chuckle_. The bastard. Q drags his tongue along the underside of James’s cock as he begins to bob his head, sucking and swallowing greedily. He’s enjoying the taste and weight of James on his tongue, the soft groans of pleasure he’s dragging from his lover. Every time he looks up at James, he sees the man’s gaze grow hotter, more intense. He knows James is dying to take control, so Q reaches around to grip James’s perfect arse for leverage. He then takes James all the way into the back of his throat and swallows. Twice.

James swears and comes suddenly, his orgasm surprising him. Q swallows almost everything, a little bit dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. He pulls back as James grows soft again and looks up at the man with a very pleased expression on his face. “So. Three days. What do you say?”

There’s only one thing to say.

“Give me a little while and I’m going to make you scream again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With any luck, this will make up for the fact that I won't have much time to write this week. Please leave comments and reviews!


	11. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Q begins to have nightmares about losing James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I spent yesterday and today watching "London Spy". It was very well done, but now Q is so upset that he can't handle anything. Hence the angst and comfort.

Q rarely dreams. In fact, when he does dream, the chance that he’ll remember come morning is almost nothing. He doesn’t keep any kind of dream diary or go in for dream analysis. He sees all of it as malarkey.

Until he’s been with James Bond for a whole month.

They’re still dancing around the labels. ‘Fuck Buddies’ seems to be Alec’s favorite term, Eve prefers ‘partners’, and he’s not sure what he prefers, though secretly he does think of James as his boyfriend. It took all of five seconds after they both walked back into MI6 after their first weekend in his flat for everyone to know. He doesn’t really mind. It means that Bond can come by Q-branch and kiss the very soul from his mouth whenever he feels like it. Q will never say no to that particular activity.

They honestly get lucky. In their first month together, James only has to go on two missions, both to Europe and both for very low risk situations. Q is in his ear the whole time and they both delight in discovering just how much he can get James worked up over the earpiece. That’s a security tape Q has saved to his encrypted hard drive for future viewing. The night James returns, Q makes sure to clock out as soon as his lover returns from Medical so they can get food and go back to his. The sex is mind-blowingly good too.

James kisses him as soon as they get in the flat, but before they can do anything, he opens a brand new bottle of Scotch. Q watches curiously until James takes a sip and pulls him close, kissing Q and releasing the Scotch into his mouth. They don’t even make it to the bedroom, and the couch cushions are going to need to be replaced; Q actually ripped one open trying to get free from James’s belt while the agent licked him open until the Quartermaster actually couldn’t form words. The other cushions are spectacularly ruined when he comes all over them without James laying a single finger on his swollen, leaking cock. James follows him over soon after and took great care in massaging feeling back into Q’s wrists after removing the belt.

A long, hot, shared shower later and they’re curled up in bed, Q half asleep on Bond’s chest while the agent reads the latest Sherlock Holmes novel (Horowitz’s _Moriarty_ , Q had it figured in the first chapter but is dutifully not spoiling it for James. He doesn’t realize he drifts off to sleep at first.

***

He and James are sitting there in bed together, Q on his computer, James working on a post-mission report that he’s been ignoring. They’re sharing space and air and time but aren’t speaking and it’s so _comfortable_. The simple domesticity of it reminds Q of bustling through the kitchen in the morning while James cooks breakfast. As it turns out, Q can burn an egg before he even gets it out of the fridge, so he isn’t allowed to make anything other than tea; the toaster had gone up in flames the week before.

He doesn’t hear the first bullet, but he hears the glass shatter, sees the red bloom through James’s t-shirt. The agent looks surprised, and Q can only watch, horrified, as a second bullet pierces between James’s eyes and the light drains from them.

Quick. Simple. Efficient. Not. Fucking. Possible.

***

Q is screaming.

He’s screaming and thrashing and sobbing like he’s been shot. Firm, callused hands close around his wrists as a warm body pins him to the bed, but that’s danger. There’s a window. What was he _thinking_ when he got this place? Q isn’t remembering that he chose a place where it would be actually impossible for a sniper to get any kind of bead through the windows, that he chose this flat for its safety possibilities. All he can see behind his eyelids is James dead in their bed. Not his bed anymore. It’s theirs.

“Q. Q, snap out of it. Wake up, I’m here!”

Q finally opens his eyes with a broken, wrecked sob. He starts bawling anew and nearly chokes on his snot. James grabs the tissues and brings them over, helping Q sit up and blow his nose. “You were dead. Shot. I saw it. In our bed, James I can’t-if that-I can’t-I won’t”

James wraps him firmly in his strong arms, stroking Q’s hair and just holding him close. “Listen. It happens. It’s stress or PTSD. Well, for me. Sounds like you’re… scared. Of losing me and not being able to stop it.”

Q sniffles and nods as James helps him blow his nose again.

“Tell you what. Bulletproof glass first thing in the morning. We can up the security here. We could get decoy flats in the city. Q… Q I will do whatever you need in order to feel safe with me.”

“You’re in danger all the time. You’re more likely to die.”

“Statistically… maybe not. Have you seen the state of R and D lately?”

Q’s look is nonplussed. “I work in Q-branch. Of course I have.”

“And how many bombs do they regularly make?”

“Not enough to keep up with your destruction quota.”

James chuckles and ruffles Q’s hair. “I’m here and I won’t leave, little spoon.”

Q smiles a little and closes his eyes, and though the nightmares don’t come back that night, it’s certainly not the last time he dreams of losing James Bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and comment!


	12. Coin Toss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two possible reactions, but which one happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to figure out how to incorporate the office pool. Q keeps bouncing between comedy and angst. It's very confusing.

_Two options. Two possibilities. Call it in the air._

***

 _Heads_.

“You did WHAT?!”

“I put money in the office pool on us. Through Eve- she agreed to split the winnings. I thought we could go away for a mini break-“

“No, wait, let me see if I understand this… Friday night, that was all just a ruse?”

“No. I wanted that every bit as much as you did. It was more about having it happen on that particular day. You weren’t supposed to find out anyway.”

“Yes, well, Moneypennny is a bit of a loose cannon then, isn’t she? Did you text her as soon as I fell asleep?”

“Why are you so angry about this?”

“Did you seriously just ask that question?”

“Q, don’t-”

“Don’t what? Fly off the handle? God, you seduced me and I bloody fell for it.”

“Didn’t we just talk two days ago about figuring out what we wanted?”

“That was before I knew you had money on us shagging that night! It rather cheapens the whole experience. Did you think I would just cut and run like Vesper-”

“No. No, you don’t say her name. You don’t throw her in my face. You don’t get to _do_ that, Q.

“So that’s it, then? I really am just another notch in your bedpost. I think you know where the door is.”

***

 _Tails_.

“So, Eve just gave me the biggest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face. It was Cheshire Cat big. Any particular reason why?”

“Did you hear about the office pool?”

“James, everyone knows about the pool. M even had money in it. He lost, though.”

“He did… Eve won it.”

“How much did you give her? And 007, please don’t lie.”

“Fifty thousand pounds.”

“I put in sixty.”

“Where did you have sixty thousand stashed away?”

“I’m very good at my job, Bond.”

“As am I.”

“So, we’re in agreement. We’re both very good. Now. What are we doing with our winnings? Don’t give me that look, Bond. Eve has to share it three ways. We just happen to wind up with the larger portion in the end. Besides, we both had money on Friday night.”

“I never knew you could be so devious, Q.”

“Then you have quite a bit to learn, 007. And next time you decide to destroy all your equipment, so help me, I won’t even give you a toothpick for your mission.”

“Mini-break next weekend?”

“If you’re in the country, then yes. I’d like that.”

“Tentative weekend for all around fuckery scheduled.”

“Excellent.”

***

_Call it._

_Heads... or Tails?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Tails. :)
> 
> Reviews and comments!


	13. Race You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q loves Mario Kart. James has never played it before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired both by whisper91 and Startwiththeridingcrop. I love the idea of them playing a video game and Q being so much better at it than James.
> 
> There be fluff and smut ahead.

James comes over with the tray of popcorn, grilled bacon and cheese sandwiches, and cold beers while Q sets up the Wii and connects the controllers. “So this is a racing game?”

“Mario Kart is so much more than a racing game, James. It’s a competition of speed, dexterity, and who the biggest asshole is.” He grins wickedly up at his lover and hands him a controller. “The joystick will guide the kart, A is go, and you’ll learn the other buttons as we play.” He joins Bond on the sofa and opens one of the beers.

The game starts up, upbeat music blasting from the speakers as Mario appears. James raises a skeptical eyebrow at Q, but the genius just continues to grin. He sets them up on his account (everything unlocked of course). “So you have to choose your character and then you’ll choose the kart or bike they drive.” He’s already chosen Mario.

James looks through the selections, frowning. His video game education had never included anything remotely related to Mario. Usually if he looks for a game, it’s Assassin’s Creed, Bioshock, or something to do with COD or Modern Warfare. Not wanting to take too long, he chooses Bowser. He doesn’t see Q’s smile widen.

They choose their karts and fix the settings for items and NPCs and the like. James has a sneaking suspicion that Q is hustling him, but his lover never lets on. Q sets the difficulty to 150cc and chooses the special cup. “So this will be a four race series: Dry Dry Ruins, Moonview Highway, Bowser’s Castle, and finally, Rainbow Road.”

He sounds almost gleeful. James begins to worry.

***

_Dry Dry Ruins_

“What the fuck is that?!”

“It’s a giant cactus, James.”

“In a room filled with sand. And how the fuck do you actually steer?”

“I told you. The joystick but you have to hold down A as well. That propels the kart forward.” He laps James and shoots out of the temple and into the desert again. The agent gives him a withering scowl as he comes in last place; Q placed second. “You’re new at this. Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.”

***

_Moonview Highway_

“THAT CAR WAS A BOMB!”

Q is cackling as James runs into the Bob-omb car for the second time after getting red-shelled. He had been maneuvering better up until then, but he’s back in last place again.

“Yes James, it was. You have to watch the road when you drive, you know.”

James growls and leans over to bite Q’s ear. “I think you’re playing me, Q.”

“That’s the idea. It’s a _game_ 007\. We play each other.”

James sits back as Q places first and he comes in 11th. He’s already beginning to formulate a plan…

***

_Bowser’s Castle_

“I really fucking hate lava.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Those… what did you call them, Thwomps? Those are hardly playing fair.”

“They’re a staple in all Mario dungeon levels. Just as I’m Mario, the hero of the games. You chose Bowser. His nemesis.”

James struggles to drive around the lava geysers and fails spectacularly as one of them bursts up right under his kart. Q’s laughter sounds positively gleeful.

***

_Rainbow Road_

“FUCKING FUCKERS!”

He has fallen off the course more times than he can count and hasn’t managed a single lap. James gives up the game as a lost cause for now (though he is secretly determined to master it and whoop Q’s arse next time), so he sinks slowly to the floor and palms Q through his trousers. The young Quartermaster gasps, his control slipping slightly and throwing him off the course.

“James… James what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He leans forward to mouth along the bulge in Q’s trousers.

“We-we’re having a race-”

“Then don’t take your eyes off the road,” James growls before extracting Q’s rapidly hardening cock and swallowing it down.

Q swears and rocks up into James’s mouth, struggling now to focus on the race. He’s slipping back into third, now fourth place. His lover pulls off long enough to pause the game and make Q meet his eyes. “Q, if you lose? You won’t be allowed to come.” He un-pauses the game and swallows Q again.

_Oh. Fuck._

Q’s struggling with split attention now, wanting to succumb to the pleasure that is James Bond’s wonderfully talented mouth, but he has to win. He has to be better than the best now. He inches his way up in the running, soon holding steady in second place. He just needs a Koopa shell… He snags an item box and takes careful aim just as James presses a finger against his perineum. Q arches off the sofa, eyes wide and unblinking as he finishes aiming and fires.

He hits Peach and knocks her out of the way so he can zoom by and finish the race first. 

James suddenly increases the suction from his mouth and Q comes with a hoarse cry. He grabs for James’s hair, accidentally hitting him with the controller as he does so. James, to his credit, doesn’t let go. Q hadn’t hit him that hard; the controller was still attached to his wrist. He watches his lover sink boneless into the sofa while James licks him clean and sits back. Q looks quite thoroughly debauched.

“You… are a complete prick…”

“And you were hustling me. I say we’re even.” He takes a sip of beer and leans up to kiss Q.

“Hungry now. Movie while we eat?”

James nods, tucking Q back in his trousers and climbing up to pull the young genius into his lap. “Should we see what’s on Netflix?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are always welcome to leave reviews and comments.


	14. All-Around Fuckery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James did promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is gonna be my attempt to write a solo D/s scene. God I hope I get it something close to right.

James’s promise for all around fuckery does not happen that next weekend. Or the one after that. Or even the one after that.

An international terrorist group chooses that precise week to launch a global destruction initiative, and all the double-oh agents are called into the field to resolve the situation. Q works harder and longer hours in those two weeks than in his entire tenure as Quartermaster. In that fortnight, he and James only get a single night together. James has to sneak back into the country in order to deliver his intel because transmitting it to Q would have gotten them both killed.

They meet in James’s old flat. Q has updated it with all the latest technology and security in order to keep them both safe. James doesn’t even speak when he makes it through the door. He just holds Q for a very long minute. The Quartermaster knows then, even if it doesn’t properly sink into his mind for a good long while, the truth of James’s feelings for him. They won’t say the words for more than a year.

They fall into bed, passionate but slower than usual. Q almost feels like James is saying goodbye; the agent is convinced it is the last time he’ll see Q alive. He’s seen the plans this group has. If any of them survive it will be a bloody miracle. He’s terrified that he’s going to lose another person in his life, much less the brilliant man currently falling apart beneath him.

James brings them both to orgasm, swallowing Q’s cries with his own kisses. His mouth travels all over his lover’s body slowly, memorizing the taste and feel of Q’s skin. The Quartermaster notices but doesn’t speak. He just watches, and James rises soon after to clean them both up and hand Q the intel USB he managed to steal.

***

The next seven days are harrowing.

MI6 nearly blows up and would have if not for some quick thinking by an injured Alec in Medical; he manages to diffuse the bomb that was attached to the oxygen pipeline in the wing. Q, on the other hand, has his hands full with technical blips and malfunctions. He manages to purge several viruses from the MI6 system and eradicate the group’s bugs embedded in his own code. When he finds the backdoor he knows it’s an inside job. Every single underling who sees his face that day cowers in terror… except for R, Q’s second in command.

“What is the meaning of this?” Q says very softly in R’s ear, his hand touching her neck just above her collar.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Q suddenly finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun. R smirks at him. “You think you’re such a clever little boy, don’t you? The pride of MI6, the apple of 007’s eye. Well, he will live just long enough to see me kill you. Won’t that be a nice present?”

Q raises an eyebrow and sighs. “And here I had such high hopes for you.”

R frowns but then her legs buckle. She drops the gun and Q crouches next to her. He holds up his gloved hand for her to see.

“Coated in a fast acting neurotoxin. I thought you were cleverer than that. But no… just a traitor.” He stands and looks right at the webcam in her computer before flipping it the bird and wiping the machine.

Every single underling in the office brings him tea before he even needs it for the rest of the week.

***

After R’s demise, the operation unravels in a rather anti-climactic fashion. James manages to destroy a five block radius in Berlin (much to Q’s eternal dismay), but the group is destroyed. 007 returns triumphantly before passing out in the doorway of Medical from several gunshot wounds and lacerations. How he managed to return in his condition, head nurse Rebecca doesn’t know. She does, however, let Q in to see the agent as soon as he finds out the man is back.

Q comes walking briskly into Medical in a very thinly veiled attempt to suppress exactly how worried he is about James. He finds his lover heavily bandaged and high as a kite on morphine. James grins at him.

“Q! Helloooooo Q.”

Q smiles back but looks at James’s chart next. “How the fuck did you manage to get home?”

“Wellllll, I promised you a date, didn’t I? This stuff is _amazing_.”

Q perches on the edge of the bed, gently touching James’s wrist. “When I saw you a week ago… why did it feel like you were saying goodbye?”

James doesn’t answer at first; his eyes are drifting shut, but then he seems to realize Q is there. “You can’t tell Q.”

Q frowns but agrees. “All right.”

“My cover was nearly compromised that day… I thought I was returning to die… but not without saying goodbye to him first… he’ll kill me if he knew.”

“Damn right,” Q mutters under his breath.

“I wanted to remember him like that. One last good night… but I made it back.” He’s quickly drifting off now, but Q doesn’t want to leave. Once James is fully asleep, Q gives Rebecca strict instructions that only she is allowed to check on James before curling up on the bed in James’s arms and letting himself relax for the first time since the whole mess began.

***

“For the tenth time since breakfast, you’ll pull your stitches!”

“You worry too much.”

“No, I just want you better, James. You came back nearly shredded.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Oh, like that’s a good enough excuse for the state of your body? You aren’t allowed to touch me until you’re well enough to have sex again.”

“Oh come _on_ , Q, for the love of Christ-”

“Nope. Religion has nothing to do with this. You are going to take it easy, do your PT, and get fucking _better_.

***

“Q, it’s been two weeks since I got back.”

“Mhmmm. Yes it has.”

“The doctor gave me the all clear this morning.”

“Oh? Really? If I go ask Rebecca, she’ll corroborate that, will she? Do I have to sic Alec on you?”

“…no.”

“I thought so. Not yet, James.”

“You do realize you’re the first person in the history of my whole life to give me such ridiculous blue balls?”

“If you would learn to not get shot at or cut up so much, maybe things would be different. Bleeding all over me during sex is not sexy. That will get you locked up in A&E.”

***

_6 weeks after the incident_

Honestly, Q thinks, James acts like he is the only one not getting any in all this time. It’s been nearly two months since the entire fiasco, and only today is James healed enough to properly resume normal activity. Q is so wound up and desperate for sex that he’s worried a single look from the man will make him burst into flames. He spends most of the morning in Q-branch trying to build up enough of a wall that he will be able to make it through a face to face conversation with James.

Instead, he gets Eve with a message from Bond.

“Medical let him out an hour ago. He gave me this to give to you.”

Q takes the letter and opens it, reading the familiar handwriting.

 

_7pm. The Four Seasons. You’ll find the suit you should wear in your office._

_Your name: Danny Holt_

_Occupation: I.T. Engineer_

 

Q’s eyes widen as he reads and re-reads the note. Eve peeks over his shoulder and starts to grin. “Kinky. I like it.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying. You’re really gonna have fun tonight, aren’t you.”

“Moneypenny, I swear to all that you believe that if you leave right now I will tell you about it later next week over lunch. Yes. I am accepting your standing offer for lunch off of MI6 premises, but only if you leave right now.”

“I’ll feed the cats tonight. You better tell me everything.” Eve is still smirking as she heads out of Q-branch and away from the flustered Quartermaster.

***

Q finds the suit easy enough. It’s hanging in the en suite bathroom that he has in case he spends several days in a row at MI6 and can’t get home; those are the days he sends Eve to either feed the cats or, on one memorable occasion, board them for nearly a month. The suit is absolutely gorgeous, dark black jacket and trousers with a deep greenish-turquoise silk shirt. He showers and dresses, doing his best to tame his impossibly wild hair. The suit, of course, fits him perfectly. He looks… well, he looks rather sharp. It’s tailored and comfortable, and he turns every head in the branch when he walks out at five. In a suit like this, he knows he’ll need a proper handkerchief and a few other things. The name circles around and around in his head. Danny. He answers to Danny tonight.

***

He arrives at the Four Seasons just before seven and takes a seat at the bar. He decides that a Scotch will be good to settle his nerves. James wants to play. This should be fun. He’s halfway through the drink when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?”

Q knows the voice instantly but has to squash his normal reaction. He’s not Q right now. He turns slowly and looks at… oh fucking crap on a diet cracker. James looks like bottled sin.

The man is in a perfectly tailored dinner jacket. The trousers accentuate his legs, the white shirt stretches across his broad chest and highlights every single muscle there. The fabric looks like it could be silk or velvet, and Q longs to touch. He almost forgets that he’s been asked a question, but he shakes his head. “No, it’s free.”

James sits down and sees Q’s drink. “I’ll have the same,” he says to the bartender before smiling easily at Q. The blue eyes seem to burn playfully, but there’s something else hidden under there. A promise? “I’m Jim Munroe.”

“Danny. Holt.”

They shake hands; James’s calluses seem even more pronounced than usual. “Are you in town for business or pleasure?” Q asks.

“A little of both, in fact. I’m here on a trip for work, but who says the evenings can’t be enjoyable?” There’s a little more Scottish creeping into James’s voice, and Q suddenly remembers that the man actually is from Scotland. “Are you from London?”

Q nods, slipping into the role easily. “Lived here most of my life. I work in I.T. Most people don’t appreciate the skill it takes to work with computers and numbers. Most people just think I fix computers and things. You would be surprised how many things can be fixed by turning them off and then on again.”

James chuckles and sips his drink, looking Q up and down slowly. The fire in his eyes seems to burn a little brighter. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Q flushes a little and smiles shyly. “No… no I’m between boyfriends at the moment. I had something a few months ago that didn’t work out. But no one has been able to compare to him, you know?”

James nods and drains his glass before sliding a card over to Q. “I’m in room 700,” he murmurs, leaning in to whisper into Q’s ear. “If you’re interested, meet me there in ten.” He pulls back and stands, buttoning his jacket and smiling heatedly at Q before heading out towards the lifts.

Q has to remember how breathing works before going to pay the bartender. He shakes his head. “Your friend already paid. Said your drink was on him.”

Q heads for the lift and takes it to the seventh floor. Here goes nothing.

***

He knocks on the door, and James opens it. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, and the top buttons of his shirt are undone. Q swallows as he tries very hard not to stare. James steps back and welcomes Q into the room. It’s incredibly lavish, and Q turns to look at the man currently locking the door behind him. “You never mentioned what you do.”

James turns to look at him, smirk widening. “I suppose you’re right, I didn’t. I was too distracted by your beauty.”

“Does that line usually work?”

James chuckles. “It does, actually. But you’re so much cleverer than that, aren’t you?” He takes a step closer to Q, backing the younger man against the nearest wall. “You know exactly what it is that I want from you… what any man would who saw you in this suit.” He slowly runs his fingers down Q’s lapels. “The effort it took not to touch downstairs… it was excruciating.”

Q is having significant difficulty in even forming a coherent thought. All of the repressed sexual desire and energy from the past few months is surging through him, and he wants so badly to be under James that he whimpers a little. The blond’s smirk widens.

“I think you want it too, don’t you? Have you ever hooked up with a stranger in a hotel?”

Q shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so. You look so innocent. And you blush so beautifully… though before we begin, you’ll have to know that I’m very dominant… well, I’m a Dom. And I’ve been looking for a young sub that I could take under my wing. Would you like that? We could meet whenever I’m in town… I could open your eyes to so many things. I bet you even like being bound. Restrained.”

 _Oh_. So this is what James has in mind. Q suddenly remembers their conversation a few months before where he’d admitted to James that he isn’t necessarily into the whole Dom/sub lifestyle but that he would be willing to try out more intense play, submit to James… and the wanting fire in those blue eyes is more than enough to convince Q that it’s absolutely what he wants.

“I would… I would like that, sir.”

James smiles widely at him and captures his lips in a rewarding kiss. “Very good.” He steps back and sits in the large armchair opposite the bed. “Now. You’ll need a safe word. We won’t do much with anything tonight other than bondage and perhaps some vibrating toys. But first, strip for me. I want to see all that gorgeous skin.”

“It’s binary. My safe word. Sir” Flushing, Q toes off his shoes and begins to strip slowly. He doesn’t take his eyes off James as he drops his jacket or as he undoes his shirt one button at a time. He focuses on how those eyes darken with want as Q reveals his torso and then his legs. He’s soon standing there in just his pants, and then he takes those off as well. His cock springs free, already hard and betraying just how much he wants this. James smirks and licks his lips, looking every bit like the Big Bad Wolf. “Beautiful young lad. I bet you love taking cock, don’t you?” He beckons and Q obediently walks over. “My little Danny…” He takes a cushion and sets it down before him. “Kneel for me, pet. There’s a good lad.”

Q sinks down in front of James, looking up at him. “Now then, pet, how about you put that gorgeous mouth of yours to work. If I like what I see, then I’ll reward you.”

Q leans up on his knees, pressing his lips to the bulge in James’s trousers. He keeps his hands behind his back and manages to undo the button and zip with his mouth. He does need his hands to completely free James though. The man’s cock his hard, hot, and heavy in his hands as Q looks up to see James nod at him. He leans forward to lick and suck the head, gently stroking the shaft. James’s fingers sink into Q’s hair in encouragement, gently pressing until Q moves his mouth down all the way to the base of James’s cock. The younger man takes a second to adjust to the full size of James before managing to swallow. The blond moans and rocks his hips up. Q tries to bob his head but James’s grip on his hair tightens and James places Q’s hands on his muscular thighs. “If you need me to stop, just drop them,” he growls before holding Q’s head still and fucking up into his mouth.

Q whimpers and moans, his glasses a little askew as he tries to keep his throat relaxed for James. He swallows around him when he can, breathing through his nose and listening to the older man groan appreciatively. He has _missed this_ so much, and he wonders how much of choosing this scenario tonight ha to do with James wanting to be in control… but it’s also about Q being in control as well. James will be giving Q pleasure and taking his own pleasure from that… it’s also an extra excuse to get to play with ropes and bondage.

He can hear James nearing orgasm and feels it too. He has no warning before James is spilling into his mouth and down his throat. Q moans happily and swallows everything he can, sucking on the rapidly softening cock in his mouth until James swears and pulls out. The blond drags Q up into a bruising kiss, keeping one hand firmly buried in his hair. “You looked fucking gorgeous like that, pet,” James growls.

“Thank you, sir,” Q gasps when allowed to surface for air.

“I think you’ve earned a reward.” James stands, leading Q to the bed and arranging him on it. He supports Q’s hips with a few pillows, keeping the younger man facedown so his arse is in the air. He then binds Q’s wrists to the headboard with lovely silk rope. “There. What a gorgeous image you make… such a perfect pet.” He lightly taps Q’s arse with his hand, and the young genius whimpers. Oh he had liked that. He wants that again.

James notices with barely concealed glee. “Does my pet want a nice spanking before his fucking?”

Q nods eagerly. “Yes! Yes sir, yes please.”

James reaches over into the side table and pulls out a small silicone cock ring. It isn’t until he has it fastened around Q’s cock and turns it on that the younger man realizes it’s also a vibrator. He squirms and moans loudly as James begins to spank him, warming his arse cheeks with his hands. Each swat stings wonderfully, and Q can feel the heat beginning to gather in his arse as a result. He wants this, wants James, wants his cock so desperately that he can’t stand it. After ten spanks he’s ready. After twenty, he’s begging, and after thirty he’s so wound up and desperate that he’s almost in tears. James leans down over him and kisses the back of his neck. “Such a good boy. I bet your cock is leaking now too. I’ll have to prep you a little bit though. I think I’m too big to take you while you’re this tight.”

James pulls out the warming lube and spreads it over Q’s hole and on his own fingers before working two of them inside the younger man. He keeps his free hand on the small of Q’s back, holding him steady as his fingers pump in and out, stretching and warming him up. Q tugs on the restraints desperately, squealing when James finds his prostate and fingers it for a solid thirty seconds. It feels so fucking _good_. Q’s begging is almost incoherent when James finally removes his fingers and covers his cock with lube. “I’m going to fuck you while still dressed, pet. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

“ _Yes_ , oh yes, yes sir, please sir, Jim, please just-YES!”

James slides into Q with a single thrust, burying himself completely in his lover. It feels so good to be fully healed and able to make Q sound like this. He begins to move in earnest, snapping his hips sharply to bury every inch of himself inside Q every single time. “Come on, pet. Let me hear those pretty noises.”

Q obeys and begins to moan louder, gasping and groaning as he stretches to accommodate every time. His own cock hurts he’s so hard, the vibrations bringing him a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain… and then James turns it up. Q screams as he tries to come but can’t, his lover slamming into his prostate at the same time. James grabs Q’s hair and pulls his head back, biting and sucking dark, possessive marks into the younger man’s neck. “All mine, you belong to _me_ now, pet. No one else.”

“Yes sir! Yes, yes I’m yours! Fuck!”

“You’re going to earn your orgasm, aren’t you boy? Earn my cum in your arse too.”

Q moans, his whole body flushing red as James continues to pound him. Q can feel the fabric of James’s trousers against his legs, whining at the stimulation, the soft material teasing him. He wants it, starts begging for it. “Please, please sir, please let me come, you can fuck me through it, I’ll be good, and I’ll only come when you say so. Please, please please please!!!!!!!”

Well… Q _is_ begging so nicely.

James reaches under him and works the cock ring off, teasing Q all the while. As soon as it’s off, he begins to growl in Q’s ear. “Go on then. Show me how good you are. Come on my cock pet. Come for me _now_.”

Q screams incoherently as he does, coming on command and clenching hard around James. The older man speeds up his thrusts and unerringly hits Q’s prostate every single time until the younger man cannot even move for the aftershocks of pleasure. James is so proud of his lover that he relaxes and chases his own orgasm, fucking Q with abandon until he spills inside.

They both still their movements on the bed, slowly coming down from their collective high. James pulls out, fetching a sizable plug and working it into Q’s arse. The younger man whimpers, still feeling so full, but he knows it’s another mark of possession from James. He smiles a little, very blissed out and sated for the moment. He listens to James move around, cleaning things up, stripping, bringing back a damp flannel to clean them both up. Only then does he unbind Q and tuck them both in under the covers. “Scene over,” he murmurs into Q’s ear, nipping it gently.

“Fucking hell, James…” Q whispers. “That was amazing… we can do that whenever you bloody want.”

James smirks and kisses Q’s neck. “Well, last time we didn’t speak at all. This time I wanted something different… have you been a sub before?”

“Once, when I was much younger. But the other boy wasn’t even a tenth of the Dom you are. Have you studied it?”

“I may have done some research while you had me confined to Medical.”

“That was for your own good… James, why did you pick that name for me?”

“I thought it sounded nice. You look like you could be a Danny.”

“You didn’t hear it somewhere? Or read it? Not that it’s possible to do that but… you guessed?”

“Q, what’s wrong?”

“When I took this job I erased myself completely. You can’t find any trace of me anywhere on the net… but you managed to guess my real first name.” He rolls to look back at James. “You can’t tell a soul. Not even Moneypenny or M know.”

James kisses Q slowly, holding him safe in his arms. “I’ll never breathe a word of it… but can I use it sometimes?”

“Only when we’re alone, okay?”

James nods. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your comments and reviews here. I always reply. :)


	15. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q and James have been together awhile, but each has doubts about the other. Time for Eve and Alec to give some sound advice.

Eve is already there and waiting for Q when he arrives. She grins at him and gives him a hug before letting him sit down. “Now. Before you begin to argue with me, I’ve already ordered. You’re not allowed to just have tea for lunch.”

“And I suppose there’s no point in protesting either?”

“You would be correct in that assumption, yes.”

Q rolls his eyes and sips the steaming tea in front of him. “Okay. I did agree to lunch mostly to appease you. You haven’t left me alone on this for weeks, Moneypenny.”

Eve just keeps grinning. “It’s because you are so quiet on the subject of you and Bond. A girl needs _details_ , Q!”

“Moneypenny, my sex life really isn’t anyone’s concern but my own.”

“Yes, but this is the longest I’ve ever seen James with one person. Ever. Even Tanner made a comment after James’s last debriefing. Says he’s changing for the better. The only thing that’s different in his life, Q, is _you_.”

***

“I’m buying the first round.”

“Ohhhh no, you did last time.”

“If I recall, we argued about it and then you still paid because you nicked my wallet.”

James smirks. “Yes, because I refuse to be indebted to you.”

Alec reaches over and slips a twenty pound note into the bartender’s pocket. “James, I’m paying. Now shut up.”

The agent leans against the bar, relenting just for now. “Then I’m ordering for us both.” Alec heads to their table with the drinks while James proceeds to get two rounds of fish and chips, asking for extra salt and vinegar on Alec’s when the other agent isn’t looking. He joins Alec, sitting down to a nice midday meal. James notices his friend's smirk several moments before he says anything. “All right. What is it?”

“You’re relaxed. It’s a good look on you.”

James raises an eyebrow. “Really. Relaxed?”

“It’s more obvious if you know what to look for, but I’ve known you nearly twenty years now. I know when you’re proper relaxed.”

“Is that because of the one mission we had to pose as a couple?”

“Well, that helped. But you’re different now, more than you used to be.”

***

“You’re taking the piss. There is nothing different about him. He’s still reckless. And flirts with everything that moves. Including you if I’m not mistaken.”

“Q. James’s default setting is to flirt with everyone, but have you noticed that he doesn’t take anyone home? If he does have to kiss on a mission, he seduces the information from the person before anything makes it to the bedroom?”

Q thinks about it for a moment as the waiter brings them their sandwiches. “A BLT?”

“It’s good for you.”

“I’m willing to concede that bacon is delicious, but in what universe is it actually good for you?”

Eve gives him a slightly pointed stare. “You are _not_ just having tea for lunch.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“He loves you, you know.”

***

“James! What did you do to my food?”

The blond agent snorted, chuckling as he polished off a few of his own chips. “You wanted to pay. You don’t like it?”

“Child.”

“Manbaby.”

Alec stares at James and deliberately eats several chips soaked in vinegar, fighting the urge to contort his face at the taste. James almost snorts his beer out his nose from laughing.

“Okay, I’ll fix it.” He goes to the bar and orders again, making sure the order is correct this time before returning. “Come on. Your face was so priceless.”

“You pull jokes on Q much?”

James grins. “I got him a cat. A gorgeous grey tabby. This was… oh, about a month ago. But I didn’t tell him I named it until he had the cat in his arms and was brainstorming cats from T.S. Elliot. Then I told him I named him Earl. Because it’s a grey cat.”

Alec stares at James and groans. “That is _horrible_ , James. That’s a truly horrible pun.”

“He loves he cat though. Earl often sleeps in bed with us at night. I think Q might love him more than Macavity and Rumpleteazer.”

***

Q has reluctantly finished half his sandwich now and stares at his plate while Eve regards him carefully.

“You… you think he does? Love me?”

“What else could it be, Q?”

“Intense fascination? Adoration? Lust?”

“He steals equipment for you. And a car that one time.”

Q smiles in spite of himself, but there’s still almost too much for his brain to process all at once. “He’s never said it.”

“Can you blame him? He probably doesn’t want to scare you away. And consider his history. I know you know about Vesper. She did a real number on him, Q.”

“I’ve read the files. He doesn’t really talk about her, and I don’t bring it up because I’m worried I’ll trigger him. Or push him away. Or… or he’ll compare me to her and I’ll come up lacking.”

“Q. You’re so much better than she was. You haven’t betrayed him for starters.”

Q pushes his plate away, stomach churning. “I… I think I love him, Eve. And it really scares me.” He looks up at her, and she sees his eyes shining with what look like tears. “What if I say it and he runs?”

***

“I’m telling you, James. You’re different now. Q’s a good influence on you. I’ve never seen you in a relationship like this before, and it suits you.”

James finishes his food and leans back in his chair, thinking about it. “You might be right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Well, you weren’t in Bahrain-”

“Fuck you, Bond. That was a tiny mistake that was actually _your_ fault-”

“Really? I remember there was almost a civil war because you flirted with the wrong girl-”

“I know how to keep it in my pants, thank you very much.” Alec chuckles softly. “You don’t sleep around anymore. You always come home to Q.”

“I do… he’s the only one I really want to look at anymore.”

“If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. You should tell him.”

James shakes his head. “No. No I can’t say that.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because I’ll scare him away.”

“Bull shit.”

“Because… because I’m not good for him. I’m too old, too reckless. He deserves better than me, Alec.”

“That’s an even bigger load of bull. You think he ever looks at anyone else? Have you _seen_ the smile on his face when you walk into the room?”

“Is this before or after I get dressed down for once again breaking my equipment?”

“To be fair, James? You break _everything_ he hands you. But if you do that to his heart, I’ll kill you myself.” Alec reaches over to punch James lightly on the arm. “I won’t pressure you to say something. You have to tell him in your own time. But trust me. If you trust anything, trust that he cares about you.”

James finishes his beer and stares at the empty glass, silent.

“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, mate. Don’t fuck it up.”

***

“He won’t run.”

“He always runs.”

“But he won’t run.”

“Eve, he’s not a relationship or long term commitment person. I’ve only been to his place once and we weren’t even sleeping together then. He’s basically moved into my flat. And not all at once either. One toothbrush or book or shirt at a time.”

“Which is more than he’s ever done with anyone else.”

“Eve-“

“Q. Q listen to me.” Eve reaches over and takes his hands gently. “He cares about you. I would hazard a guess and say that he probably loves you. It will take him longer to say it than most, but trust him that he will. I know how much you care about him. I’ve never seen a Quartermaster so creative in his designs for new weapons, new technology. And I have _seen_ the way you smile when he likes what you’ve done. Trust in him. Trust in the pair of you. And god help us if one of you turns rogue because then we’ll lose the other.” She smiles at the young genius. “He would tear the world apart for you, Q. Just to make sure you’re safe.”

A single tear rolls down Q’s cheek as he shakes his head. “I’m not-”

“Don’t you dare say you aren’t worth it because you are. And don't say you're not his type. He likes fragile looking but sturdy.”

“So what really happened in Shanghai then?”

Eve smirks. “I may be one of the only women to refuse his advances. I’m not saying I didn’t want it, he had just trusted me to shave his face after all. But I’m just too strong for him. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”

Q laughs in spite of himself and pulls his hands back to wipe his eyes. “I won’t push him away, and I won’t run. I don’t think I could… I think I love him, Eve.”

She beams at him. “Of course you do, sweetheart. Now. Details. You’ve been far too quiet on the subject of James in bed.”

“Eve!!!”

“Just tell me. Is he as large as the stories say?”

Q smirks, but doesn’t say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love your reviews and comments!


	16. Compatibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is so much... plot... yes, plot everywhere...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said a bang, bang, bangity bang...

To say that James and Q are compatible is the understatement of the millennium. They are beyond compatible. They are completely and totally perfect for each other. Because each is just as horny as the other.

***

After several months, everyone knows that when 007 arrives in Q-branch, it’s best to stay away from the Quartermaster’s office for a while because _everyone_ knew what they were doing the first time it happened.

James arrives in Q branch after a successful mission and Medical clearing him to see his lover. He steps into Q’s office and freezes. Q is sitting at his desk and dismantling a gun. His fingers fly over the weapon, taking it apart methodically before reassembling it in record time. The double-oh agent is completely transfixed. And rock hard.

Q doesn’t realize James is there until the agent shuts the door. He looks up to see James’s face only centimeters from his own. “Welcome back, James.”

“Lock the door.”

His lover’s voice is a mere growl, and Q scrambles to obey the command. He activates the magnetic locks on the door so no one can get in, and hits the other switch to activate the tinted windows. They can see out, but no one can see in.

James walks around the desk and shoves several things to the side before throwing Q down over it. He stands between Q’s legs and grinds against him, leaning down to capture his lover’s lips in a deep kiss. He sucks on Q’s tongue and continues grinding against him until Q is just as hard as the agent.

“Where’s your secret stash of condoms and lube?”

“Upper right drawer, Jesus James, stop _teasing_.”

“I’ll tease as much as I damn well please, pet,” his lover growls. James makes short work of Q’s trousers and pants, but when Q reaches up to undo James’s shirt, the agent catches his wrists. Smirking, James steps back and undoes his belt, slipping it out of his trousers. “I think your clever hands need to be bound.” He reaches up and buckles the belt around Q’s wrists, pulling it just tight enough that the Quartermaster can’t escape. Only then does James roll on a condom and prep Q, working in his fingers until his lover is close to tears.

“James, James please, fucking _please_ , stop teasing me! Just fuck me!”

The agent smirks and fingers Q’s prostate until the man nearly comes. The only thing that staves off Q’s orgasm is James’s hand squeezing the base of his cock.

“I’m still not sure you’re desperate enough.”

“You’re a fucking c-“

James chuckles and cuts Q off with a kiss, removing his fingers and sinking his cock into his lover. “Desperate slut for me,” he growls against Q’s lips before fucking him into a screaming orgasm over the man’s desk.

The next day, Q more effectively soundproofs the office.

***

“What brought this on?” Q gasps as James buries himself inside Q’s arse and begins slamming into him against the wall.

“Three. Week. Mission,” James growls before biting Q’s neck and worrying the skin with his teeth. The Quartermaster knows it’s going to leave a very visible mark above the collar and he doesn’t care at all. Instead, he runs his fingers through James’s hair, scratching his scalp and tugging on the shorter hairs. “I think you need a trim,” Q pants in James’s ear as the agent sets about leaving another mark on the other side of Q’s neck.

“Really now,” Bond purrs, licking up to Q’s ear and biting the lobe gently. “Would you like to? A trim and a shave, I think you can manage that. I could put my life in your hands with scissors and a razor, couldn’t I?”

Q’s about to respond when James snaps up and hits Q’s prostate. The younger man cries out in pleasure and clutches at James’s still clothed shoulders.

“That’s it. Come for me, pet. Come now and I’ll spend the next several hours making you do it all over again.”

***

“So, this sucks. How much longer are you going to be away?”

“At least two more days. The storms are too strong for safe transportation and somehow, I think you want me back in one piece.”

“Well yes, one piece would certainly be preferable. Where are you now?”

“My hotel room. Nothing to do. Nothing on the telly.”

“You have me in your ear.”

“Hmmmmm, I do. Where are you?”

“Q-branch. You think I’m leaving early?”

“That depends on what you’re doing right now.”

“Palming myself through my trousers. Thinking about your lips on my neck. What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m laying back on the bed, completely naked. I just showered too, and I’m not completely dry.”

“Then I’m straddling you and licking the little rivulets of water off your body while you watch.”

“Fuck… Q… what else?”

“I think I’m opening myself up for you, stretching my arse with my fingers so I can sit on your cock. So I can ride you… fuck… have I told you lately that I love your cock? How wonderfully thick it is? How it always feels so huge inside me?”

“Keep talking-ah-Q, don’t stop.”

“Oh I won’t. I want you to come inside me. I want to ride you, want your hands on my hips. Fuck, James, I want your fingers to bruise my hips, I want your marks on my body for _days_.”

“Q, I’m close, I’m so close.”

“Harder, James. Come on, come inside me.”

“Fuck! Q!”

“Oh fuck, James!”

“…I will officially never lose my earpiece ever again. They’re too hot.”

***

“Shhhh, we shouldn’t get caught.” Q giggles and pulls his trousers down, locking the stall door as James pins him to the wall and kisses him a little drunkenly. “What brought this on?”

“Well, public sex is on my bucket list, and too many people were flirting with you.”

“Really?”

“Have you seen your arse in those skinny jeans?” James turns Q around so the younger man’s chest is against the wall. “I’m gonna fuck you so thoroughly that you feel me for a week.”

Q groans as he feels James work him open with lubed up fingers. “I don’t want you to use a condom,” he murmurs. Q reaches into a pocket and hands James a plug. “I want you to come inside me and use this. Plug me up so that you’re still in me the rest of the night.”

James snarls and bites Q’s neck almost hard enough to make it bleed. He curls his fingers roughly, stretching his lover just enough that penetration won’t hurt. “One of these days,” he growls, “I’m going to blindfold you and tie you down and just torture you with pleasure until you’re begging for me to stop and keeping going at the same time.”

His lover whimpers and clenches around the fingers inside him. “Fuck me already, James.”

The agent pulls his fingers out, slicks up, and slams into his lover. He pins Q’s hands above his head with one hand, the other lightly wrapped around Q’s throat. The Quartermaster gasps, trying to stifle his cries of pleasure as James uses him thoroughly. “Yes, yes yes more!”

“Shhhh pet. We get caught, and you’re not allowed to come.”

Q bites his tongue and whimpers, clenching hard around James. “More, please more.”

James’s hand on Q’s throat tightens a little bit and his thrusts speed up a little bit more. “So tight around me every time, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect. Go on. Come for me. Paint the wall with your cum like the dirty little pet you are.”

The Quartermaster gasps and clenches hard, coming for James as the agent growls in his ear. James murmurs “ _Danny_ ,” very softly before filling Q up with his cum. His thrusts slow down, and he kisses Q’s neck before lubing up the plug, pulling out of Q, and working the plug into Q’s arse. Q moans and clenches around the plug.

“James… that’s so good… oh fuck, sex is never boring with you.”

The double-oh agent chuckles and nips Q’s ear. “Trousers up, pet. Can’t have the rest of the club seeing your arse.

***

James and Q are a perfect pair, compatible in every way. But they still can’t manage to say “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments welcome!


	17. Cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q doesn't like cleaning and has a minor dust allergy. He's also really not slept in 3 days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James gets a chance to take care of his lover for once.

Q steps out of the cab slowly, his body stiff and head pounding. The past seventy-two hours had exceeded the MI6 record for most things gone wrong on a single mission, and James hadn’t even been involved. Alec had gotten himself trapped without a chance of extraction, and Q had been forced to pull several miracles out of his arse in order to save 006. He had even told Mallory that no one was to tell 007 what was going on. He didn’t want the man throwing himself back into the field so soon after coming home with a cracked rib and a gunshot wound to his right thigh.  Needless to say, Q is exhausted, stressed, sex starved (no sex until James’s rib is properly healed), and frustrated. It’s been a trying day, and all he wants to do is come home and collapse on the sofa in James’s arms.

So he is greatly surprised when he opens the door to the flat only to be hit with the smell of lemon and cleaning sprays.

Q sees James first as he closes the door; the agent is standing at the stove and scrubbing the daylights out of it. The agent looks up when he hears the door and grins. “Doesn’t the place look good?”

The young Quartermaster stares around his flat. Every surface he can see has been scrubbed and polished within an inch of its life. The television has been dusted, as well as the movies and games cupboard. The floors look like they’ve been mopped, and even the vents for central air have been taken apart and dusted. Q almost immediately sneezes. He can feel the dust in the air already trying to clog up his nose and throat.

“You could have warned me.”

“I wanted to surprise you. I’ve already done the bathroom and bedroom. The only room I haven’t touched yet is your office.”

“Good. Don’t. Everything in there is organized so I can find it.”

“Q… it looks like chaos in there.”

“Exactly. Organized chaos-ahCHOO!”

Q sneezes hard enough to knock his glasses to the tip of his nose, then sneezes twice more. His eyes are watering as he steadies himself and looks up at a very concerned MI6 agent. He shrugs and sets his bag down next to the door. “I have dust allergies. Your cleaning stirred up the dust.”

“I was going to air the place out too, but I thought you might object to that.”

“Yes. It would compromise the flat’s safety to have windows open.”

“Q-”

“No, James. Look. I’m exhausted. I want a shower and then I want to curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to the telly. If you want to join me, fine, but not smelling like a chemicals lab. And you better not have hurt yourself with this cleaning.”

He stalks out of the room before giving James a chance to reply, and he doesn’t hear the agent follow him. Okay. Fine. See if he cares.

Q walks into their room and stops dead in his tracks because the place actually looks really good. He knows James is thorough because when he looks behind the end tables, there is not a speck of dust to be found anywhere. The bed frame has been polished, the sheets remade- Q even suspects James has rotated the mattress. When he opens his closet, he finds everything hung up with military precision, and there’s not a single wrinkle in any of his cardigans or slacks. Did James press them?

The bookshelf is perfectly aligned and dusted as well, and when Q goes into the bathroom, he swears he can see his reflection in the floor tiles. There’s not a sign of mildew in the shower, the toilet practically sparkles… the place really looks amazing…

Guilt at snapping at James surges up through him, but Q is too proud to go groveling back to the agent. Instead, he strips, drops his clothes in the hamper next to the sink, and steps into the shower. The hot water pours onto his head and down his body, slowly starting to work the tension out of his muscles. He rests his head against the wall and groans softly. There had been too many near misses for him to relax since going in for the mission three days earlier. He’d been about ready to come home when he got the distress call from Alec. Instead of coming home to his lover, Q had texted James that he had to work late… then again the next day… and the next… The agent must have gotten bored. Or maybe he thought a clean flat would be a nice surprise, like he’d said. Either way, Q feels like a complete arse.

He starts when he hears the door open, and a moment later, James joins him in the shower. Q never gets tired of seeing the man completely naked, but right now he’s almost too tired to care. He just leans against the man and lets James hold him; Q still takes this chance to surreptitiously check James’s healing rib. The man barely winces this time. That’s good.

Q feels James smile against his head before gently guiding him back under the spray to wash his hair. James’s strong fingers massage Q’s scalp to work the water through it completely before lathering up with shampoo and working it through every inch of his head. Q has to brace himself against James for support after fifteen seconds, and by the time he’s rinsing again, Q’s half asleep.

James takes his time with this, wanting to properly relax his lover so he can sleep. As much as he wants to take Q to bed and keep him there with sex, he knows his rib needs a few more days and that Q will absolutely flip if he pushes too fast. So James contents himself with worshipping Q’s body in this way. He washes himself quickly between rinsing Q off, mostly to make sure he no longer smells like the chemicals in the stove cleaner. James then lathers up Q’s flannel with his favorite soap and slowly, thoroughly, washes Q’s skin. He massages the tense muscles in Q’s shoulders, strokes the tension out of his arms. James makes sure to brace Q gently against the wall before working down his torso and down to his legs. Soon the agent is kneeling in the shower while Q grips his shoulders. James is staring up at his lover while the genius stares back down at him.

“Let me take care of this, Danny,” James murmurs softly.

After a moment, Q nods and relents, and James slowly takes his lover into his mouth.

He’d never particularly liked giving blow jobs until he met Q; now James thoroughly enjoys making his lover come apart with his mouth like this. James feels Q dig his nails into his shoulders when he does something the man likes, and Q had even worked to teach James how to relax his throat and take Q deeper than before. He hums around his lover’s cock, swirling his tongue and slowly bobbing his head back and forth.

The water still pours down their bodies as James works, pulling soft whimpers and moans from Q until he feels the man quiver against his tongue. James looks up into Q’s eyes and nods, and Q grips James’s hair and comes down the agent’s throat. He pours himself dry while James swallows and suckles him until Q’s legs finally give out. He sinks to the floor of the shower and curls up against James with a sigh.

James reaches up and turns off the water, stroking a hand down Q’s arm. Q looks up at him and kisses him gently. “’M sorry,” he mumbles. “Tired,” he adds a minute later.

Chuckling fondly, James helps Q out of the shower, dries them both off, and then carries Q to their bed, despite the feeble protests. He dresses Q in a pair of boxers and one of his own t-shirts; Q refuses to sleep in anything but James’s t-shirts now. He then does the same and gets into bed with Q. He only intends to stay there until Q’s sleeping, but Q clings to him as he falls asleep and James can’t bring himself to leave. The cleaning will just have to wait until after his nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and reviews!


	18. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q is particular about certain aspects of his appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was aiming for a 100 word drabble and wound up with 225 words.

“Bond… did you just _ruffle_ my hair?”

He can hear James barely stifle a snigger, so Q fixes the agent with his sharpest stare. “It took me nearly half an hour to get it just right this morning!”

“And it looks better this way. With my hands in it.” James strokes his fingers through the dark, lush curls atop Q’s head, much to the Quartermaster’s annoyance.

“Uh huh. You have five seconds to remove your fingers before I activate your watch.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t.”

“Five.”

“Q, you’re being unreasonable.”

“Four, I really don’t think I am, 007. I have an image to maintain. Three.”

“Oh? And what image is that? Because I really like the one where you have sex hair all the time.”

“Two. 007, this really is your last warning to not mess up my hair at work with people watching!”

James pulls his hand back, understanding in his eyes. “Ahhh, I see. And if the door is closed and no one is watching?”

Q chews his lip while he thinks on it. “I suppose. But I can’t go into meetings looking like I’ve just been shagged. I do have an appearance and a reputation to maintain.”

“So do I.”

“Oh buzz off, 007. Go… go pump iron or something.”

“You know you love me.”

“Uh huh. Now get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments!


	19. Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q hates flying. James is there the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mini-chapter. I was in drabble mode this morning. Big chapter coming on Friday June 3!

 “James, I really can’t do this.”

“Q, I’m right here, and I’ll be with you the whole time. Look at me.”

Q forces his gaze to James’s face from where it had been fixed on his shoes. “I don’t see why this is even necessary.”

James takes his lover’s hands and holds them gently, kissing the knuckles on each one. “M said you need to be up in a plane at least once every five years for mandatory emergency training. And I said I would be damned if you were going up alone.”

The plane begins to taxi, and Q goes very pale. “Most accidents are pilot error or mechanical failure. And more happen during takeoff than almost any other point in flight.”

“Q.” James leans over to press a gentle kiss to Q’s ear. “Focus on my voice, Danny,” he murmurs quietly enough that only Q can hear him. “You can hear me clearly like this. You are safe, and I’m right here. If anything went wrong, I would have a parachute on both of us and we would sail clear of the wreckage because I would never let anything happen to you. Ever.” He presses another kiss just below Q’s ear, and he feels the man shiver. “You are always safe with me. Well. Almost always. I know I tend to cause trouble and break your equipment.” Q’s lip twitches at that. “But you know that I care. That what we have is more than just sex and cohabitation.” James feels the plane gather speed and start to lift into the air and he holds Q’s hands more securely in his own and kisses his lover on the lips. “You know I don’t say it, but you know how I feel. How completely and thoroughly you’ve captured me.”

Q looks over at James and nods slowly before grabbing the air sickness bag and heaving into it.

The double-oh agent sighs fondly and rubs Q’s back. “Maybe we’ll stick with g-force training for now,” he murmurs before signaling to the pilot to bring the plane back in. That’s enough flying for one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments!


	20. Sick Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Q is a horrible patient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't wait until Friday to post. I didn't want to forget before leaving for work in the morning. I keep oversleeping my alarm.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to whisper91, JuJuBee (Marcy09), and startwiththeridingcrop. You guys are so supportive and wonderful, and your feedback and friendship mean the world to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

James has been watching Q closely for two days now, and he’s convinced the Quartermaster is coming down with something. Q has been growing paler than usual, the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and increased stress even more pronounced than they were when James returned from his most recent mission the week before. He knows part of it is work related; 006 blowing up what seems like half of the Russian countryside isn’t helping matter much; _Alec needs to get his pyromania under control_ , James thinks for the umpteenth time since he’d met the bastard.

The Quartermaster insists that he’s fine, that James needs to stop worrying, but James is concerned that Q might get even worse if he doesn’t slow down. And Q never slows down.

Q is convinced that James is just being a worrywart and is stoutly ignoring all the telltale signs of sickness that cling to him more each day. He’s always had a weaker constitution than most, something he compensates for with his stunning intellect and tea addiction. Recently, he’s chalked up the reluctance to get out of bed in the morning to added stress from work; several recent double-oh missions have been very close shaves, and getting 006 home in one piece had been nothing short of a miracle. He and R had been working overtime for nearly a week to make it happen. It’s just work. He just needs one good night’s sleep, and everything will be back to normal

In fact, Q is so sure that nothing is wrong with him, that he’s still trying to persuade James of this fact while vomiting violently into the toilet the next morning.

He’d barely made it in time as it was. Q had woken suddenly with painful nausea and had been forced to scramble for the bathroom in time to heave the remains of his dinner into the toilet (it's not much at this point, sending Q into a spasm of dry heaving). He’s still retching when James comes in on his heels. The agent is sleep tousled and has pillow marks on his face, but none of that matters as he kneels by Q and strokes his back. His Danny is sick and needs help.

After a few minutes of wrenching dry heaving, Q flushes the toilet and puts the lid down. His skin is pasty and slightly green, and James can tell just by touching Q’s back that his lover has a fever.

“James, James I’m fine… food poisoning… It’ll pass… really, I need to get dressed…”

“Food poisoning, my arse," James says flatly. "You're sick. You’re staying home today.”

“You can’t make me, 007.”

But James has his mobile out and dials Mallory before Q can protest, and he resolutely keeps it out of Q’s reach as the call connects; Q glares daggers at the older man as another wave of nausea hits him and forces him to wretch into the toilet again.

“M? Bond. I’m afraid Q will be staying home today. Possibly for the next few days… Looks like a stomach virus… haven’t taken his temperature yet but certainly feverish and clammy. I’ll update you on his condition if it worsens. And please, do not send him _any work at all_. I will be confiscating his electronics. He needs rest.” James hangs up and stares at a visibly livid Quartermaster, but Q doesn’t have a chance to retort before he has his head back in the toilet bowl while he heaves.

James stands only to move the small garbage bin from the corner, place it by the tub, and start a warm bath. “You need to wash off. It may also help bring your temperature down.” He retrieves the thermometer and gently takes Q’s temperature in each ear: 37.8 in the left, and 38.3 in the right. _Damn_. Bond works efficiently to strip Q down and help him gently into the tub. “Now. Stay here and soak for a moment while I change the sheets on the bed. Can you do that for me, Danny?”

“Bite me, 007.”

Chuckling, James ruffles Q’s hair and heads back to their bedroom. Once Q can’t see him, James exhales sharply, worry now etched all over his face. He’s not had to care for anyone who’s been ill in a very long time, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to do a good enough job to bring Q back to normal. He so rarely gets sick himself that he’s not even sure how to go about doing it. He pulls his mobile out and begins to search proper flu remedies while getting out the clean sheets for their bed. He doesn’t dare text Eve; the last thing he needs is a well-meaning busybody agent in their flat. Besides… he wants to be able to take care of Q on his own… nurse him back to health.

Pushing his more panicked thoughts to the side temporarily, James sets about stripping their bed and remaking it with clean sheets. He knows he will need a shower too, but Q is the higher priority. Once the bed is remade and the dirty sheets are in the wash, James grabs a sleeve of crackers, a glass of water, and their small bottle of Panadol before heading back to the bathroom.

Q, thankfully, hasn’t had to throw up again, but he’s starting to shiver as the water cools. James quickly kneels by the tub and helps Q take the Panadol and slowly munch on a cracker. The older man adds a little bit more warm water to the bath before lathering up Q’s flannel with soap and washing the Quartermaster down.

“007… I’m not a child…”

“No, but you’re ill. Danny, you have a temperature. You’ve been throwing up. You have to _take care of yourself_ and get better.”

“I can wash myself-”

“Danny, listen to me. Your eyes are drooping shut, and you look like you’re about to fall asleep. Now, I’m waiting to see if you can keep that cracker and your medicine down.”

“You keep your medicine down,” Q mumbles, trying to sit up more in the tub, but he starts to feel queasy again. He braces himself against the side of the tub and breathes slowly, hoping the feeling will pass. When it doesn’t, he grabs the bin and retches into it. Again. He really hates this.

James waits until the nausea has subsided again to rinse Q off and help him out of the tub. He hands Q the mouthwash to rinse the taste of vomit from his mouth while James dries the younger man off and wraps him in a dry towel. Q spits the rinse into the sink and gargles again before begrudgingly allowing James to help him back to the bedroom.

“I can walk on my own, 007. I don’t need to be mollycoddled. Honestly I-oh… I need the bin!”

It takes twice as long as usual to get Q dressed in pyjamas and back into bed. James drapes a sheet and a light blanket over Q and puts the bin next to Q’s side of the bed. “Give me a few minutes. I’m going to see if we have any ginger ale left to help your stomach. And more crackers. You need to keep some food down, Danny.”

“Just ‘cause you know my name doesn’t mean you c’n use it all the time.” Q’s words begin to slur together as his eyes droop closed. “Erased it from everywhere for a reason…”

James stays there for a moment to watch Q fall into a fitful sleep.

“I know Danny… but I love your name. It’s very… you.”

He knows Q didn’t hear a thing.

***

_One hour later_

“No.”

“Danny-”

“Not thirsty. Just gonna throw it up again.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh well spotted, 007.”

“I’ve noticed you call me that when you’re irritated with me. It’s the same tone of voice you use when I’ve broken something.”

“Mmmmm, yes, well, I’m not an invalid. I’m _fine-_ ”

“Then keep down this soda and two crackers.”

Q takes the crackers and eats two of them, albeit very slowly. He sips the ginger ale slowly as well, worried he will trigger the virus again. He really loathes throwing up.

“As soon as you can keep those down, I’ll make you soup.”

Q stares up at James in disbelief. “You. Making soup.”

“I cook for you all the time. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Because soup is what you make for sick people and _I’m not sick_!”

James sighs softly and leaves the crackers on Q’s nightstand. “I need to check the chicken and make sure it’s thawing properly. I’ll be back in five. Oh, and I’ve hidden your phone, tablets, and laptop. I’ve even confiscated your Kindle, so please don’t try to look for them. You need rest, not a screen headache.”

Q is seething as James heads back out to the kitchen. He tries to get up and follow, but the nausea comes back full force and is accompanied by a dizzy spell too. So Q curls up meekly under the covers and focuses on breathing in and out slowly and keeping the food down.

***

The cracker experiment is a mixed bag. After several attempts that come right back up again, Q finally manages to keep down one with a Panadol near noon, so James takes that as a good sign. Q’s fever still isn’t going down though; he hopes that if the medicine stays down, then Q will begin to recover.

James carries Q into the living room and wraps him in a light blanket before setting him on the sofa. He turns on Doctor Who and moves the bin closer to Q just in case before returning to the stove and checking on the soup. Chicken noodle soup just feels like the right thing to make (and most of the websites he had looked at listed it as one of the best foods to feed someone who’s ill), and the broth should be very gentle on his lover’s stomach.

He glances up from time to time as the Doctor and Rose outrun a werewolf. Q hasn’t moved- a good sign. He also hasn’t thrown up. Another good sign. James sets the soup to simmer and puts the pasta on.

The episode finishes just as he puts everything together for Q on a dinner tray. James carries the meal over to his lover to find Q shivering. James hurriedly puts the tray down and checks the bin- no vomit. He touches Q’s forehead and his eyes widen. Q feels like he’s burning up, and his teeth are positively chattering. James dashes for the thermometer and comes back with it a moment later.

38.8 and 39.4.

 _Shit_.

***

Two hours later and James has managed to bring the fever down a single degree. He has Q laid out on the sofa with cool, damp flannels on his wrists and forehead; James changes them out when they start to get warm. He has a small bucket of ice by his side that he’s feeding Q piece by piece, anything to bring the fever down and get some liquids in him. Q might not be vomiting anymore, but if the fever doesn’t drop soon… maybe he’ll need to take Q in to Medical. He knows the Quartermaster hates doctors and hospitals more than almost anything, so it’s a last resort. But if it means he won’t lose Danny…

Oh. _Oh_.

It’s obvious, now that he thinks about it. It’s been brewing for some time and try as he might to ignore the feelings, how hard he _swore_ after Vesper that he would never let himself feel this for another human being again… after the pain of losing M… after being broken and angry and withdrawn for so long, it’s the young man in front of him who has, effectively, stolen his heart.

“I love you, Danny.”

It’s a simple thing, such a short phrase, yet James feels a weight lift from his shoulders to finally profess his love for the young Quartermaster. He presses a kiss to each of Danny’s clammy wrists and whispers it again. “I love you, Danny.”

***

 _Everything is burning and freezing all at once. Q can hardly move, hardly think. He’s falling and then tries to jolt awake but can’t find the energy to move. He can’t see; everything is darkness. His whole being aches except for a few points of cool contact. He tries to focus on them, but his head is aching too. Through the haze of pain and heat and ice, he can just make out soft words being spoken_.

“I love you Danny.”

_James’s voice, soft and full of affection._

_Just a dream, a nice dream. 007 doesn’t profess his love to anyone. Not even to me…_

_Q sinks out of consciousness once more._

***

It takes most of the rest of the day before Q’s fever finally breaks. James sags with relief as Q’s temperature slides slowly back down to just above 37. A low grade fever is better than what it’s been. He slowly gathers Q up in his arms and carries him back to the bathroom. Q is limp and clammy, but thankfully, he’s no longer shivering.

James strips them both and gets into the shower, adjusting the water so that it’s not freezing or burning; he wants it refreshing, soothing. He washes Q first, then quickly washes himself. As the water pours down their bodies, Q begins to stir, moaning a little with the lingering aches in his joints as he tries to move. James shushes him softly and is very gentle with him, especially when drying them both off.

“James?”

“Hey there, Danny. Welcome back.”

“Didn’t we just do this?”

“Shhhh, let me get you dressed. How does soup sound?”

Q feels his stomach growl. “Good I guess.”

James cradles his precious burden close on their trip back to the bedroom, and he moves slowly as he dresses Q in clean pyjamas. He throws on his own clothes quickly and hands Q his glasses. He sees the younger man relax when they’re back on his face. James carries Q back out and sets him in the plush armchair before quickly gathering up the flannels and things from before. He sets them aside and puts the soup on to warm before coming back to check Q’s temperature. 37. Normal. _Thank God_.

“What time is it?”

“It’s… almost 1900.”

Q’s eyes widen slightly. “What did I do all day?”

“Slept. Mostly. Your fever only broke thirty minutes ago.”

“It’s still today?”

James nods and brushes the damp hair back from Q’ forehead. The timer dings and he stands, kissing Q’s face briefly. “I’ll be right back.” He moves quickly to make the soup, worried that when he comes back Q will be catatonic again. “I texted Mallory to say your fever had broken, but I’m keeping you home tomorrow. Before you argue, it’s to make sure you’re not contagious and that you’re properly on the mend. It wouldn’t do to get your department ill. Who would bring home Alec from his next pyromania binge?” He returns with the food on a tray and sets it on the table in front of them before pulling up a chair to make it easier to feed Q. He sees Danny smiling a little, but his eyes seem far away.

“I had the strangest dream.”

“You did?”

“It’s starting to come back to me now. I thought I heard you say you loved me.”

James very nearly drops the soup bowl. He was sure Q had been out of it when he’d spoken. He couldn’t have heard James’s confession… but is it a bad thing if he had? Why does James suddenly feel like _he_ might vomit then? “You did?” The agent is proud that he manages to keep his voice steady. Picking up the bowl, he begins to feed Q the soup, surprised when he doesn’t protest.”

“I heard it twice and then nothing else… Was it real? Or was I dreaming, James?”

He looks up at the agent, and James can see so many emotions flickering through Q’s unguarded eyes. He can feel the lie on the tip of his tongue, the denial of it all, but he knows he can’t say it. He can’t break Q’s heart like that. And he can’t deny it to himself anymore. Or ever again. But if Q doesn't love him back, it might be the last straw to shatter him into oblivion.

“I-I said it. I love you, Danny.”

The third time is even easier than the first two, but joy and fear twist in his chest as he watches for Q’s reaction. He can see the initial disbelief on Q’s face morph slowly into a mixture of cocky pride and joy as the young genius processes it all. “Of course you do.”

 _Overwhelming relief_   floods through James as he chuckles and makes Q eat another bite. “Well? What about you?”

“And risk you spilling hot soup in my lap?”

James rolls his eyes and sets the bowl down on the table next to him. “Okay. Soup is out of the danger zone.”

Q smiles now. He still looks weak and pale but James knows he will get better. If anything, they’ll both be able to mend properly now. _Together_.

“Of course I love you, James Bond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally said it!!!! I've been building to this for a month and a half and my precious babies finally said it!!!
> 
> Please leave your reviews and comments below. They mean a great deal, and I do respond to all of them. 
> 
> Thank you, my readers. Stay tuned, there's more to come yet....


	21. Fantastic... or Earpiece 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An amusing undercover assignment has Q teasing his lover about his Doctor Who obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned TARDIS cufflinks in an earlier chapter and then thought, why not continue talking about Doctor Who?
> 
> Fluff and crack, basically
> 
> For whisper91. Here is part 1 of 2 fluff chapters just for you, my dear. I hope they do the trick this week. :)

“Target in sight.”

“Well that’s a bloody relief. I was beginning to think your obsession was getting in the way of your work. Have enough souvenirs yet?”

“Q, you _wound_ me.”

“007, you’re currently dressed like the Ninth Doctor. I think I’m allowed.”

“Can you see me? I’m waving.”

“…007, you’re flipping off the nearest camera.”

“Yes, I am. Hello there, Q.”

“Very funny. Now. Do you have your scanner?”

“It’s called a Sonic Screwdriver-“

“It is a _specially made scanner_ with a built in EMP setting I designed to fit in with the convention and find your target. It just happens to look like a Sonic Screwdriver.”

“Mhmmm. Forgive me if you never get it back. I’ve always wanted one.”

“A scanner?”

“A Sonic Screwdriver.”

“Dear god, you’ve well and truly lost it.”

“Q, nothing about this mission is designed to preserve what little dignity I have left.”

“You really expect me not to tease? No one at MI6, aside from Alec and me, knows how much you love this show. And I do get it, I suppose. I shouldn’t judge. I’m sorry.”

“Fantastic!”

“Sorry?”

“Of course I’ll pose for a photo.”

“Oh. Ah, I see. You’re posing with… she’s supposed to be Rose Tyler, correct? And he’s Captain Jack?”

“Mmmmm, brilliant. No, you’re welcome.”

“Honestly, 007, the sooner this is all done with, the better. Though I’m keeping photos for myself of you in that jumper and leather jacket. Wait, did he just wink at you?!”

“Is there something wrong with this jumper? And yes he did. Captain Jack flirts with everyone.”

“Yes, it’s from about two decades ago. And I don’t like it.”

“Why Q, are you jealous? Ah, okay, I’m close enough to tail him.”

“Who on earth is he dressed as?”

“It’s what, and it’s a Dalek. The enemies of the Doctor? A symbolic representation of Nazis?”

“You told me this, and the Cybermen are Communists?”

“Exactly. See? You’re learning.”

“Okay, keep a safe distance. That egg whisk looks too real to be safe.”

“Now you’re just taking the piss.”

“You expected me to do anything else?”

“I’m going to make you watch the entire new series through David Tennant when I get home.”

“Does it beat you to death or suck your face off with a plunger?”

“Target within range. Activating Screwdriver’s EMP setting.”

“Okay, once you do that I’m going to lose you on your earwig. You’ll have to act fast.”

“Fantastic.”

“Go beat up the giant metal trash bin and come home safe.”

“I’ll be picking you up in my TARDIS for sure, my dear companion.”

“… You’re really gonna make me watch the whole series, aren’t you.”

“Every last episode.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments always welcome, my lovelies! I'm sorry it's been a few weeks since my last update. Work has kept me busy and mentally drained by the time I get home each day.


	22. What's the Situation?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has never seen The Cornetto Trilogy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of my gift chapters for whisper91. I dunno if I've done this justice. Now I just wanna watch the movies again.

“Okay, okay Q I’m sitting. What’s this big surprise?”

Q is practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls the complete Cornetto Trilogy on Blu-ray out of his bag. “This! I just picked it up today. It’s the best film trilogy of all time, _ahead_ of Lord of the Rings, if you can believe it.”

James raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that so? Never heard of it.”

Q stares at him. “Shaun of the Dead? Hot Fuzz? The World’s End?”

James just shakes his head. “Nope. Must’ve missed it.”

“Reference Doctor Who and you get it instantly. Reference anything else pop culture related and I get a blank stare.”

The older agent shrugs and leans back against the sofa. “I assume you’re going to show me anyway.”

“You made me watch Doctor Who. You are absolutely watching this.”

“See, when you say it like that, you make Doctor Who sound like a bad thing.”

“Only because you keep asking me to make you a Sonic Screwdriver. Which would defy the laws of physics. And no, I won’t make you an exploding pen either. Now, sit back and enjoy the absolute Britishness of what I’m about to show you.”

“Okay… wait, that box says The Cornetto Trilogy. I’m confused.”

The young boffin grins and pops the first disc into the player. “All shall be revealed.”

***

“So in a zombie apocalypse, what would you do if I got bitten?”

Q does his best not to freeze as he heads to the fridge to get out a bowl of freshly cut fruit while James tosses their strawberry Cornetto wrappers in the bin. “Well… it wouldn’t happen. Because you and I are both too good at what we do to get bitten.”

“Yeah, but-“

“James, I refuse to have this conversation.”

“Because I would spare you having to turn.”

“What did I just say? Not having this conversation because I refuse to even consider the thought of you dead and gone. If it happens with work, I’ll probably lose it. That’s more than enough for me to contend with right now.”

They’re both very quiet for a minute before James comes over and kisses Q very deeply. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, hugging the younger man against his chest. “I didn’t really stop to think about it… that bit when he’s going to the shops on Z day was pretty hilarious. And ‘Sorry Phillip.’ And not wanting to be any bother. And I can never head ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ again without thinking about beating the shit out of zombies.”

The corners of Q’s mouth twitch in a smile. “We’re not using the Z word.”

***

“Nope. Of all MI6, Mallory is definitely Nicholas Angel. Are you kidding? Alec is worse than you sometimes, James, and you already don’t follow the rules most of the time.”

The blond laughs hard as Q busies himself with cutting up vegetables to put in their omelets. “Perhaps. That’s a pretty bloody accurate representation of the country though. Not usually as much murder though, now that I think about it, but those people all exist.”

“That you know of. Could be all for ‘the greater good’- OI!”

James giggles and flicks water at Q again. “The greater good,” he suddenly deadpans, sending Q into spasms of laughter.

“The next time you’re in a fight, I’m going to quote that film at you.”

“Oh god, I’ll start laughing. Fuck off, grasshopper.”

Q snorts again and begins cooking their eggs. “So, two movies down, and two Cornetto flavors as well. You ready to face The World’s End?”

James raises an eyebrow. “Why do I suddenly have the feeling that has multiple meanings?”

Q flips the eggs and adds the vegetables, letting everything cook a few more minutes. “You shall soon see.”

***

“…Fuck…”

“Exactly.”

“Just… _fuck_ …”

“Yeah… I promise that we would shack up somewhere outside London if that happened.”

“Think you could live without your computer?”

Q narrows his eyes at James and hits him with a throw pillow. “Better than a zombie apocalypse though. And neither one of us would get caught and turned into Blanks, either.”

“Wonder what that film really says about humanity.”

“We’re all too belligerent to submit willingly to a hostile alien takeover?”

“Or that we’re too pig headed to accept seemingly positive change.”

“You’re job proves that on a daily basis.”

“Oh you cheeky monkey. Get over here.”

“AH!!! Stop tickling! Stop it!”

“So is there a drinking game that goes along with the film?”

“One that you would undoubtedly win, I’m sure.”

“Are you implying-”

“You’re not as immature as Gary King, not at all. But _you_ could probably drink _him_ under the table.”

James drags Q close and pins him to the sofa. “So. Three movies, three Cornetto ice creams, that was a nice touch by the way, dinner, drinks… and are you my dessert?”

Q winks up at James and pulls him down for a heated kiss. “You act like I’m just gonna give in without a fight.”

“Is that a poor assumption?”

“To err is human.”

“Cheeky little _monkey_.”

“And all yours.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen the trilogy either, DO IT. It is completely worth it, 100%. It's the epitome of Britishness and British humor.
> 
> Reviews welcome as always, my lovelies.
> 
> (double post in 1 day! I know!)


	23. Thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q is afraid of thunder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I happen to be terrified of thunderstorms, so I wanted to write something to help calm myself and then the rest of the chapter happened.

“Danny? Danny, are you home?” James closes the door to the flat behind him and shakes the water from his hair as he hangs up his jacket. “It’s bloody pissing down outside. I’m soaked through.” There’s no answer, and James frowns slightly. The place is too quiet with the exception of Macavity, Rumpleteaser, and Earl at his feet, demanding dinner.

“In a minute, you greedy things,” James murmurs fondly. He slowly pulls out his Walther, though he keeps the safety on. The agent slowly moves through the apartment and checks each room until he gets to their bedroom. Opening the door, he checks the corners and the bed and… “ _Danny_?”

There are two sock-clad feet sticking out from under the bed, but when the first clap of thunder booms overhead, they vanish with a soft squeak. Putting his gun away and crouching down, James looks under the bed. His lover, the young boffin, MI6’s greatest Quartermaster, is curled up and trembling; he looks like he’s about to cry. James reaches a hand out, unable to fit under the bed himself. “Danny, I’m right here.”

The younger man looks up at James and scrambles out from under the bed and into James’s arms just as the thunder cracks overhead again. Q whimpers and tries to make himself smaller. “Q, are you afraid of thunderstorms?”

He nods, and James is all business.

“All right. We need tea and biscuits. We need a blanket fort, we need candles, and we need my record player.” He tilts Q’s chin up to help brush away the few tears from his cheeks. “You can stay right by my side the whole time, okay?”

“Okay, James.”

The older man nods and stands, carrying Q through to the kitchen. “I’ll make tea if you can feed the cats.”

Q moves slowly, very tense and not saying much. He splits the can of cat food between the there bowls and sets them down before the next thunderclap. He trembles and presses up against James as the older man takes out a brand new package of Scottish shortbread and puts it on a plate. James fixes up two mugs of soon to be steaming Earl Grey tea as well and puts everything on a tray.

“All right. Tea and biscuits are ready. Do you want to carry this or my record player?”

“The tray.”

James nodes and hands it to Q before getting his record player and several of his favorite records. They carry everything back to the bedroom and set them down. “Now we just need the electric candles from the cupboard and all the blankets we own. Can you still build the best blanket forts of anyone I know?”

Seeing what James is getting out, Q nods, starting to smile a little. “I think so.” He squeaks a little as the thunder booms again, then starts swearing. “I BLOODY HATE BEING FUCKING AFRAID OF BLOODY FUCKING THUNDERSTORMS!” He stamps his foot in frustration, and James has to fight back a small laugh.

He kneels in front of Q and pulls him close. “We’re all afraid of something. You’re going to be all right. Now. Focus on the blankets while I get the candles and get some music playing.”

Q pulls out all the blankets and sheets and pillows from the drawers and off the bed. In the time it takes James to retrieve the candles and start up his record player with some of his favorite David Bowie songs, Q has quite the fort built. It takes no time to bring in the tea and biscuits and for the two men to curl up in its relative safety.

James tucks Q into his lap and hands him some tea. “Now. Let’s focus on the music and on each other’s company. And I rather like the way the candles flicker.”

“It’s why I like this brand. They mimic an actual flame. All the romance and none of the danger.”

The blond presses a gentle kiss to Q’s neck and nuzzles him. “Why are you afraid of thunderstorms?”

“It… it’s stupid… you’ll laugh.”

“No I won’t.”

“It happened when I was young. I was home alone during one of the worst storms of the decade. I didn’t notice it until all the power went out, and once the lights were off, my imagination ran away from me. It sounded like banshees howling outside the window and the rain was like a hail of bullets or spears and every clap of thunder was the roar of a monster.” He trembles a little at the memory. “I’ve never been able to shake the fear since.”

James feeds Q a biscuit and holds him more securely. “I won’t leave. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when the storm began. I had no idea.”

The thunder is directly overhead now, and Q nearly spills his tea. “Hmmmm,” James murmurs. “I think we need more of a distraction. How about Life? I just got it a few days ago.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re a terribly sore loser.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Well then, play me and find out.”

***

“How do you have a wife and four children already?”

Q giggles and spins again. “Because I’m a lucky man.”

James has been pouting more and more over the course of the game. “Don’t want you to have a wife,” he grumbles to himself.

Q hears, and he feels his heart skip several beats. “James, it’s just a game,” he teases. “Told you that you’re a sore loser.”

“Am not.”

“I’m really not in the mood to have that argument again. What’s really bothering you?”

They don’t talk about the future. In fact, they deliberately avoid the subject. Things are too uncertain in their lives to make extreme, long term plans, but right now Q wants nothing more than to declare his undying love like some teenage heroine in a young adult novel. James, unknowingly, feels the exact same way. He gets up and pulls Q out of the fort and into their dark room.

The thunder has moved to the edge of the city, away from them. James puts on a new record, his favorite pressing of “Begin the Beguine” and holds out a hand to Q. The younger man actually blushes as he takes the hand and he and James begin to dance together. The older man feels warm and solid against him. He rests his head over James’s heart; it beats steadily against his cheek and he smiles.

“This is nice, James. I like dancing with you.”

“You’re a wonderful partner, Q. lovely and quirky, clever and gorgeous. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He pulls them to a stop and leans down to kiss Q gently. “Marry me,” he whispers.

Q’s eyes widen, unsure of what he’s just heard. “What… did you just…. Are you…”

James gets down on one knee and pulls out a box from his inside pocket. He opens it to reveal a very simple, platinum ring with eords etched into the surface. “Marry me, Danny. Be my husband. Be mine. Please.”

“What does the ring say?”

James smiles, blue eyes locked onto Q’s hazel ones. “A bloody big ship.”

Q’s eyes fill with tears as he nods, smiling and beaming and beyond happy.

“Oh, James, _yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love your reviews and comments.


	24. Until Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how James proposed in the last chapter?

“Q, you look very handsome,” Eve says as she straightens his bow tie and pins on his boutonniere. The boffin does indeed look smart, his wild hair ever so slightly tamed to be wavier than its normal tangled mop. He’s a little bit fidgety, glancing at the door every few seconds and wringing his hands.

“Eve, what if he doesn’t show? Or what if I suddenly get cold feet? Or what if MI6 blows up or the Earth explodes or-”

“Danny,” Eve says firmly, grabbing his attention. “Listen to me. Breathe. You are just fine, Alec is making sure James is where he’s supposed to be, and you’re going to be perfectly fine. Do you have your vows?”

Q nods and checks his inside breast pocket for the fifteenth time since putting on his tuxedo. Normally he would just memorize something like this, but he’s worried his nerves will make him forget. “It’s just… it’s _James Bond_ … and-and a wedding… and what am I supposed to do? There are so many who would kill to be in my place, and I wasn’t even sure James could be monogamous until we started hooking up and dating and I’m just… I… what if we don’t work? What if we get married and things get hard and one of us leaves?”

“Then if it’s James then I’ll kill him myself for hurting you. You deserve all the joy in the world, and I’m so happy to be your Maid of Honor.”

Q’s mouth quirks a little bit. “So I’m the bride?”

“I think James might tease you for not wearing a dress.”

“Oh no. I’m not missing a chance to surprise him at how I look in a tuxedo. He hasn’t seen it or seen me in it. He has no idea I can look this good.”

Eve kisses his cheek and hugs him gently. “It’s time, sweetie.”

***

The wedding is a very small affair in the garden behind Eve’s house. Mallory stands with James and Alec, ready to officiate, Tanner is there as the witness and Mallory’s unofficial date, and Eve walks Q down the aisle. Every butterfly in Q’s stomach melts away into nothing when he sees James’s face. The blond turns to look at him, and the look in those wonderful, piercing blue eyes is joy and love and adoration. Q blushes slightly and takes James’s hand when he reaches his fiancé. The older man squeezes gently, and they face Mallory.

Q doesn’t hear most of the opening remarks, nerves returning as it comes time for their vows. It was Q’s one requirement for the wedding other than the small crowd. James wanted the tuxes and Mallory as officiant.

“I understand you have both written your vows,” Mallory says, shaking Q from his thoughts and bringing him back into the moment and his panic. Oh god. Vows.

“I’ll go first.” James pulls a paper from his tux pocket and opens it with a smile towards Q. “Danny. From the moment we met at the National Gallery, I knew you were different; it just took me awhile to catch up with what I already knew. You, beyond a shadow of a doubt, are the great love of my life. And I promise to stand by you and to fight tooth and nail to come back to you every time I leave for work. I promise to provide for as long as I’m able, and to love you and only you until the end of our days.”

Q blinks, then finds he’s blinking away tears. He sniffs and takes out his own vows, smiling and feeling warm all over. “James. You’ve rather just stolen my thunder.” He hears everyone chuckle at that. “Because I promise all those to you as well. I will be by your side, as your husband and handler. I will cherish your love and never take it for granted. I will love you across all distances and barriers, and I will always be here for you. You are my home, my other half, and I still can’t believe I’m bloody marrying James Bond.”

The older agent roars with laughter and hugs Q tightly, kissing his ear before pulling back so they can exchange rings. They’re simple silver bands with each other’s initials engraved into the metal, and Q feels all the tension leave his body when James slips that reminder onto his hand. Beaming up at the man, they finally kiss, their first as husbands.

The next hour or so is a whirlwind of congratulations and drinks from the small number in attendance. Eve has her place all decked out for the festivities, and dinner is steak and potatoes, sautéed spinach, and a lovely dark chocolate wedding cake.

Q stays by his husband through all of it, holding his hand tightly as if afraid he’ll wake from a dream. Periodically, James squeezes his hand gently and smiles down at the younger man. They only manage to get away for two minutes to share a passionate kiss in the corridor. “My husband, the things I’m going to do to you tonight are probably illegal in several countries.”

The younger man whimpers into James’s mouth, kissing him back. “I’ll hold you to that, you bloody tease.”

They return, slightly disheveled, and stay a few more hours with their friends. When it’s finally time to go, James drives them back to their shared flat. He helps Q from the car and carries him across the threshold. “Welcome home, love.”

“Enough pleasantries. We have twenty-four hours before our train leaves for our honeymoon in Scotland. I want to christen this flat as your husband.”

James snarls and slams Q against the wall, kissing him deep and dirty. “Too many clothes,” he growls before biting down Q’s neck to leave a lovely dark hickey on the pale skin.

Q works on their bowties, then their buttons. “Come on, help me James.”

“You’re doing fine. I want to bite you more.”

“You’re a bloody perv, you know that?”

“A perv who wants to have his tongue in your arse before he fucks you nine ways to Saturday.”

Q squeals and extracts himself from James in favor of running for their bedroom and shedding clothes as he goes. He can hear James following, and he giggles with giddy delight. The blond catches Q just before he reaches the door, dragging his mostly naked husband back into another heated kiss. “Hands and knees, pet,” he purrs before spanking Q lightly.

The younger man squeaks and hurries to the bed, dropping his pants and obeying his lover. He waits, listening as James finishes stripping and joins him on the bed. The man runs his hands down Q’s body to his arse, spreading his cheeks while James’s sneaky tongue begins to lick his husband open. Q is very quickly reduced to a quivering, begging mess. He can’t move or scramble away, James’s hands holding him still while he works. He loves every second of it, especially when a few fingers join the tongue to stretch him a little bit more.

“Please, please please James, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me _now_!”

He feels James smirk, then he squeals as the cheeky bastard bites him on the arse before heading into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. James returns and climbs onto the bed, lubing up his cock and spreading Q’s cheeks again before easing the head very slowly past the first rings of muscle and then burying himself completely in his husband.

Q groans in relief and drops his head to the pillows, clenching hard around James and earning himself a sharp spank. His husband grips him by the hips and suddenly slams in, making Q scream. The next few minutes are almost mindless: James slamming as roughly into Q as he can while the younger man screams and begs and praises every single thrust. He can hear James grunting, and growling in pleasure, and a tiny part of his brain revels in the fact that they’re finally consummating their marriage. They are bloody _married_.

He feels James begin to throb inside him, so he clenches harder around him. “Fill me up, come on James. Fuck me, fill me, come on, I want it.”

The older man growls and drags Q back by his hair, biting his neck and stroking him quickly as he continues to pound into him. “Come with me then, Danny.”

How can Q resist a challenge like that? His orgasm is only seconds away, and he comes almost at the same time as James. He feels his husband fill him, a wonderful warm sensation that never gets old no matter how many times they do it. James keeps stroking, milking every drop of cum he can from Q before they both collapse to the bed. Q pulls James’s hand up and begins to lick his hand clean, making his husband groan and chuckle.

“Your mouth is sinful, Danny,” he says against Q’s shoulder, nibbling the skin there. “Gorgeous and perfect and all mine.”

“Yes, oh God yes. And you’re mine.” Q clenches around James’s softening cock to tease, giggling and cuddling back against his husband. “How long before shower sex is a necessity?”

“Mmmmmm, probably two more rounds.”

“I’m not going to be able to sit down during the train ride, am I?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“I love you, 007.”

“And I love you too, Quartermaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I decided to end on a high note with this, and it will give me more time to focus on a few other 00Q ideas I have for this summer. I have loved writing this, and it has done a great deal to rekindle my passionate love for this pairing.
> 
> As always, I would love to hear what you think, and if you have ideas for 00Q stories you would like to see, I would love to hear them.
> 
> I love you, my readers.


End file.
